


One Starry Knight

by ferretboyandpotty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Appreciation For Adelaide, Arranged Marriage, Castles, Draco Is Easily Influenced, Fluff and Smut, Harry Is A Bad Influence, King Lucius Malfoy, Knight Harry Potter, Lakes, M/M, Medieval AU, Prince Draco Malfoy, Queen Narcissa Malfoy, Romance, Royal Balls, Royalty AU, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Sneaking Out, Songfic- Love Story by Taylor Swift, horse riding, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferretboyandpotty/pseuds/ferretboyandpotty
Summary: A story told through Draco’s perspective as he goes through life as a bored Prince, sad knowing he has to marry a woman he doesn’t love. Hope is well and truly out the window until Sir Harry Potter, the kingdom’s most popular Knight, is hired at the castle, and he shows Draco things he’s never experienced before. In one way or...another. There are troubles that lie ahead for both of them, mainly one being a deliciously evil King Lucius Malfoy. Angst, adventures and copious amounts of romance.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, Reader!  
> This is a WIP, and I’ve already written the next few chapters, so please stick around!  
> New chapter roughly each week.  
> Firstly, thank you to @drarry-toogoodtobetrue on tumblr. My inspiration to write this fic came from one of their posts, and I am so thankful that they let me use the idea! Go check them out!
> 
> Secondly, a big big big big big massive thank you to @dandelion99 aka my irl best friend and one of the most amazing people ever to exist on this earth. They have been my beta-ish person, and half the ideas in this fic were created with their help. They have also literally encouraged me the whole way and hyped me up so much, love you!!! 
> 
> Also realised that the story is kind of based off the song ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift. I was in the middle of writing and then only realised when I heard the song, whoops! It’s quite weird actually, a lot of the moments I had written were scarily close to the lyrics in the songs. I changed a couple of details so that it fit better with the song!
> 
> If you enjoy it, please leave a comment with feedback because that’s very much appreciated and I love hearing if people have liked it! And also please share this around! 
> 
> Thank you everyone and enjoy!  
> (find me on tumblr @ferretboyandpotty <3)

A castle in England. High turrets and towers. Secret alcoves. Fire-lit hallways. Dark grey stone. Rooms on rooms. Books on books. A 14 year old Draco Malfoy.

A quill on parchment. A letter, addressed to Celeste Holloway.

‘Dearest Celeste,’ Draco scrawls, his hand-writing curved and perfectly balanced.

A rhythmic tap of his foot on the table. The pattering of rain on the stained-glass window. The rustle of Draco’s tunic. 

‘I hope this letter shall find you well. I am most excited for our union, when we come of age.’ 

A small flicker of a smile. A sense of family loyalty.

‘I am counting down the 4 years until your arrival, but until then, I hope you keep our betrothment ring by your side. It is a great shame of your distance from the Malfoy castle, but I am not to fret for too long.’ He writes, fiddling and twisting the silver ring around his finger. 

‘My father is greatly pleased with his choice of my future wife, and I am glad that I will be able to ride my new pony with you, who will be four when you arrive. I had Adelaide help me with drawing her, which is on the other side. Her name is Juliet. Let’s hope she gets along with Xalvador and Muriel.’ He taps the goose-feathered quill against his temple, thinking of how to end the letter. 

‘I hope we are still in contact by the time we’re eighteen. It’s been thrilling talking to you again, I remember when we were nine. We would run through the castle’s gardens, much to my mothers dismay. I hope you remember too, it seems like long ago since you moved out of the land.’ A smile and a nostalgic feeling. A sigh.

‘Yours faithfully, Draco Malfoy.’ He signs the letter off, the quill scratching on the thin parchment. 

The ring gleams and glows, reflecting the flickering orange light of the taper candles surrounding him on the table. The silver band was large, having a carved ‘M’ in the middle, surrounded by leaves and dragons.

A letter folded. A letter sealed with a large ‘M’ over the top.

“Ada.” Draco calls, leaning back on the creaking oak chair that sits in his study.

“Yes?” Adelaide appears at the door, her hands clutched around the fabric of her dress.

“Send this letter off to Celeste Holloway, please.” Draco straightens his back and smiles appreciatively as Adelaide gently takes the letter from his hold.

“Lovely ring, Draco.” Adelaide nods towards the ring upon Draco’s hand.

“Thank you, Ada.” He nods and holds the ring up to admire the shine. He then heads to his rooms, to go to bed.

*

“Draco, there’s a letter here for you.” Adelaide presents it to Draco at his breakfast table. He sits outside, breathing in the warm late August air. The beating sun reflects on his silver embellished tunic and turns his porcelain skin a beautiful golden shade. The castle grounds are serene and quiet, the only sound the clanking of the Guard Knights armour and the sound of Adelaide, Draco’s maid, cutting up a loaf of crunchy rye bread.

‘Dear Draco,’ He reads, taking a sip of cold water from his sparkling silver goblet while doing so.

‘How is Juliet? I am very eager to see her, tis only 2 full seasons away until we shall meet. I remember you sending me a drawing of her, as a small pony. 4 years have come and went, my prince, but I still keep our ring close to my heart.’

He kisses the ring on his finger, cold metal against warm lips, and reads on.

‘I hope you are keeping your castle, soon to be our castle, safe. And I do hope that you still think of me, Draco, because my thoughts are only you.’

A fault in the smile. A breath hitched. He should be in love, his Father said so. You do not disobey the King.

‘Give your mother and father my love. And Juliet too. Farewell for now, Prince, I am most eagerly awaiting your next letter. Love, Princess Celeste.’

Draco pushes back from the garden table and carefully takes off his tunic, resting it on the back of his chair. 

“Where are you going?” Adelaide looks up from where she is standing, watering the golden alstroemeria lilies surrounding the castle.

“To the stables, Ada. Tell my Mother and Father I’ll be back before noon.” He says, finishing the last piece of bread on his plate. 

Draco clips down the stone stairs and makes his way to the stables that were lodged far behind the castle.

“Morning Xalvador.” He mutters, stroking the large black horse that belongs to his father. He breathes in a scent of fresh hay, but he quickly scrunches his nose up at the foul smell of the horses.

“You too, Muriel.” Draco laughs at the neighs that Muriel, Narcissa’s treasured deep-brown horse, creates when she is in need of attention. The two horses tower above him, and he pulls up some grass from outside and lets them eat it from his hand. 

“Jules?” Draco says, arching his head over the wooden door that keeps Juliet inside.

Draco smiles as a large white horse pokes her head up, sniffing his face with delight. “Good to see you too, Juliet. How about we go for a ride? Need to clear my head.” He whispers while stroking Juliet’s white-as-snow nose. Juliet flicks her ears up and stands back from the door, as though she can understand what Draco is saying. 

Draco flicks up the iron latch, and pushes the door forward. The wood creaks against the hinges, and the hay cracks under Draco’s black leather boots. He heaves the saddle over Juliet, and unwinds the large rope loosely hanging from the elegant horses neck. 

Draco inhales a deep breath once he mounts Juliet, letting his thoughts flow away so he can focus on riding. He slips his boots into the stirrups and runs his slim fingers over Juliet’s wire-like braids. Her mane is the same golden-white shade as Draco’s hair, and this is what initially intrigued him toward the beautiful horse.

Draco circles the castle, the clink of the hooves reverberating off the stone walls. 

“Where should we go, Jules?” He says, stroking her ears. “Beach or Forest?”. Juliet turns her body towards the large towering trees that sit at one side of the caste. “Forest it is.” He laughs, but quickly stopping in case one of the working maids may hear him. He must show royal etiquette wherever he may be. Even if he does not agree with Lucius’ rules sometimes. Lucius’ ‘Royal Etiquette’ was the reason why Draco was called a conceited Prince, but the reasoning behind it was because Draco couldn’t be seen as anything other than a man of class and status. He couldn’t smile and nod and walk through the town smelling the baked goods and flowers. He had to keep a serious face, and was taught not to converse to other’s who were not approved by Lucius. Whoever Lucius respected, Draco was to show that same amount of respect, too.

Draco emerges into the forest, and inhales deeply, taking in the scent of moist soil and fresh lavender. The early morning sun streams through the leaves of the vast oak trees, illuminating small patches of Draco’s pale skin and leaving a calming warmth on the back of his neck. Draco makes his way down the same path he has always taken since he had gotten Juliet, and reminisces about Adelaide teaching him how to hold and control the reigns and how to calm the growing horse. 

As Draco canters deeper into the forest, he can hear the faint running of water from the stream and finds himself at his secret lake. It didn’t belong to him, and he was sure that other people may be accustomed to it too, but he always used it as a private safe haven to get away from his duties as Prince. It was relatively deep into he forest, so he was rarely ever found. He hadn’t had many things to do to spend his time, so he would normally sit at the lake and imagine that he was just another villager, as though his life would be normal and he didn’t have to live under the scrutiny of the noble King. Lucius had strongly advised that Draco take up battling like he did at that age, but Draco became less of an importance to him over the years, and he saw Draco as a family heir to the throne more than he did his own son. So he had stopped the with the direction and left Draco to his own devices. And Draco was bored. Yes, he could take up jousting to please his father and live up to his family name, but he would rather gallop in the woods with Juliet then have them both at risk of death. His life consists of writing to Celeste, talking to Adelaide, attending balls and making public appearances. He couldn’t complain too much, though, as he does live a life of luxury. He would much rather be bored in a large castle than be living in a hut on the outskirts of the land, milking cows all day. He supposes as he grows up, marries Celeste and becomes king, then his life will be more thrilling. For now though, he is left to ponder and wait. Left to show nobility and family manners. 

Draco watches as the fish dart around. Watches as the water ripples. Watches as the forest animals hunt for food. He pulls his leather boots off in a huff, letting his feet feel the moss that surrounds the lake. It wasn’t particularly large, Draco could see the outline of the trees on the other side of the lake. On that side there was a small dock with a mouldy rowing boat sitting next to it. Draco had tried and failed at using the boat, and came home with his hair soaking wet and lake weeds between his toes. There was a tiny alcove in the corner of the lake, surrounded by trees giving the area shade and large rocks that he can lean on. 

“Come on, Jules.” He says as he sits down on the large grey rock that lets him have a great view of the sun-lit lake. Juliet makes her way through the thick ferns and lays down next to Draco, her tail swishing against Draco’s back.

Betrothed. He thinks, playing with the fabric of his pure white dress shirt. He remembers being 14, remembers once staring in awe at the ring, staring in excitement. When you’re 14, everything seems like it will forever be permanent. You have your wife chosen for you, and you must love her forever. You’ll become King and Queen, and be content with your life. At 14, you don’t know yourself. You don’t know what you’ll be like in 4 years. You don’t know that you’re unhappy with your betrothment until it starts to eat away at you. But now it was 4 years later. Draco wasn’t unhappy, he loved Celeste, he told himself frequently. It was something he had to remind himself of.

Juliet taps her wet nose onto Draco’s resting forearm, and lets out a deep sigh

“Trust me, Jules. I know.” Draco says wistfully, watching the ducks swim around. 

Draco sits there for a while, pulling up little plants and tearing the leaves off, letting them float on the clear water. He picks up a large smooth stone, and attempts to skip it over the lake. The stone plops heavily into the water, misting up the water with the mud from the bottom of the lake. Draco watches as the water splashes and lands on Juliet’s peaceful sleeping face. She wakes up with a jolt, and Draco decides that he should head back, knowing his mother and father would be expecting him.

Draco emerges out of the ethereal forest, taking in the stunning view of the castle in the sunlight. He watches as the maids and Guard Knights walk through the large gates that protect the castle. He gallops around the side, avoiding the sights of the people dotted around the grounds and heads towards the stables.

“Romeo?” Draco muttered in awe, and dropped down from his seat on Juliet. The stunning friesian black horse with white patches stands in the stable next to Juliet’s. It’s head is sticking over the door, smelling it’s surroundings. 

No. It couldn’t be. 

Draco looks around him, but the stables are empty apart from himself and the 4 other horses. Draco pulls Juliet into her stable, keeping a watchful eye on Romeo. He couldn’t believe it.

“Romeo, what are you doing here?” Draco says, knowing the horse wouldn’t be able to respond. 

Romeo belonged to only one person. And that was Sir Harry Potter, the lands most treasured Knight. Sir Harry Potter, who is known for bravery and performing courageous acts on the battlefront. Sir Harry Potter, who the land trusted with their lives. But Harry Potter would never visit the castle. He was too busy fighting in battles and courting gorgeous women, from what Draco had heard. Harry Potter has more accomplishments at age 18 than Draco would ever have in his life. Draco didn’t praise Harry, but there was no doubt he didn’t find him somewhat of a ‘saviour’ to the land. 

Draco had recognised Romeo from Adelaide’s constant fangirling over Harry, which was very common in the land amongst the women. Adelaide would talk non-stop about Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that, and it drove Draco mad. He almost felt quite jealous too, that Sir Harry could go on adventures and have fun, without having to worry about what the public might think. He didn’t have to worry about Lucius being outraged with him. No one had to deal with that, apart from Draco. 

Draco wasn’t to show excitement, though. He was to act nonchalant around everyone. He had been raised that way, and it became second nature. Draco gives Romeo a handful of grass and makes his way to the castle, intent on finding out why famous Harry Potter was here. 

“Ada!” Draco calls as he sees Adelaide frantically scurrying around outside his wing of the castle. She spots him and makes her way over to where he stands in the hallway.

“Ah! Draco, your parents are expecting you at once. Oh and change your shoes, they’re filthy!” She says quickly and scoffs, glancing down at Draco’s black boots, which are now a murky brown colour. 

“Yes, I shall Ada. Why are you so frantic? Is something wrong?” Draco says, laying a hand on Adelaide’s shoulder to get her to stop moving.

“Sir Harry Potter is in the castle!” She shouted before lowering her voice as another maid walked past. Adelaide grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him into Draco’s room. 

“He’s here! He’s really here! I’ve got to put something nicer on! I’ve got to impress him!” Adelaide said as she closed the door, safe from others hearing her swooning. 

“Don’t you think your a bit old, Adelaide?” Draco laughed, slightly sighing in relief as there was nothing to be worried about. 

“I am 35 years young, Draco! Although I don’t think Sir Potter would notice me.” She smiled, her face slightly crinkling around her crystal blue eyes.

“You never know, Ada. And also,” Draco adds, remembering why he had come into castle in the first place, “Do you know why he’s here? I saw his horse in the stables when I came back from my ride.” 

“Oh yes, of course, I hadn’t mentioned. I am feeling slightly flustered to be honest... well anyway,” She said, smiling, her hand twisting excitedly through her dark blonde hair. “Your mother and father want to talk to you, my guess is about Sir Harry’s arrival. It should give you an answer to your questions. I haven’t heard much, though, he only arrived 15 minutes ago. Do tell me what the King and Queen say. They’re in the solar room. Would you like me to prepare you tea when you get back? I am sure you have a lot of letters for Celeste to be writing.” She nodded in question.

Draco stared blankly for a second, caught off guard by Celeste’s name. The woman he was meant to love. 

“Draco?” Adelaide says, anxious at Draco’s silence.

“Ah, yes Ada.” Draco quickly coughed, putting a smile on his face. “Tea would be grand.” He said warily, noticing Adelaide’s eyebrow shoot up in concern.

“Alright, Draco.” She said, sighing. 

Draco stepped around her and headed towards the door, but stopped when Adelaide began to speak.

“Draco, your shoes.” She sighs, her eyes sympathetic towards him.

“Ah, right.” Draco says, slipping them off and grabbing another pair from his wardrobe.

“Let me, Draco.” Adelaide says, scurrying over to Draco where he sits on the chest at the end of his bed.

“Oh come on, Ada.” He smiles, lacing up the boots. Although Adelaide was his maid, Draco treated her like a best friend. Adelaide was Draco’s honorary mother when Draco’s own had other duties to attend to. Although Lucius had disagreed with Draco’s mannerisms towards Adelaide, he never did anything about it, just letting her do as she pleases as long as she kept Draco alive. Draco learnt a lot from Adelaide, more than he had from his parents combined. She was there when he needed to talk to someone, which was something Draco was raised to never do. ‘No talking about you feelings. No showing empathy. Absolutely no emotions to be shown in-front of anyone. You are a Royal Prince, and you must act like one.’ Draco can hear clearly in his mind. Remembered the first time he was in trouble for stepping out of the guidelines. He had known Adelaide for nearly 11 years, and he doesn’t know what he would be doing now if she weren’t in his life. 

“Oh, you’re too kind.” She laughs, patting his hand. “Now come on! I’ll be in trouble if you’re late!” She pulls him up from the bed, sorting out his ruffled shirt.

“Say hello to Sir Harry Potter for me.” She says, trying to sound sarcastic but sounding more desperate. 

“Oh, I sure will.” Draco laughs and heads out of the door.

*

Draco slowly makes his way through the dark palace, walking past rooms filled with expensive furniture and valuable collections. Draco lives on the west wing of the castle, where he has his own private study, bathroom and library. He chose the west wing because it gave him an unobstructed view of the castle’s gates, and Draco liked to watch people’s as they lived their lives, hoping that he’ll one day be as free as them. The rooms were decorated in dark green and black, and the library was the size of a small house containing a large fireplace that Draco normally found himself sitting in front of late at night. Anything to escape reality, really.

Draco walks further into the centre of the castle, past the many bed chambers, large sitting rooms, the castles ballroom, the kitchens, the storerooms, out and around into the large courtyard and then back in and finds himself stopping at the large windows at the front of the castle and looking at the grounds below. He stood for a while, taking in the scent of burning wood from a sconce nearby and then made his way to the solar room, where his mother and father were.

“Ah, Draco. Where have you been?” Narcissa ushers Draco in as he stands at the door of the solar room. The room is covered in square wood panels and had large muntin bar windows across one side of the room. There was a large oak wood bench in the middle, with candles running all the way down and three drinks sitting on the edge. At the table, sat Lucius Malfoy and Sir Harry Potter.

“Draco, you’re late for our guest.” Lucius grunts, spotting Draco.

Draco doesn’t pay attention though, as he sees Harry turn, and green eyes meet grey. Harry’s face is chiselled and tanned, and his teeth a bright white beam. His muscular arms fill out his cream dress shirt and as he stands up, he is a good 3 inches taller than Draco.

“Prince Draco.” Harry says, bowing. Draco stands in silent shock at Harry’s professionalism towards him, something Draco didn’t think Harry had. He was a charmer, Draco thought. He isn’t really like this. 

“Sir Potter.” Draco nods after a seconds hesitation, still oddly baffled at Harry’s presence. Although Harry was very popular in the Kingdom, Draco had never formally met him. He only became a Knight recently, but his popularity grew quickly. But Draco was going to try all he could to be a proper prince, because Harry Potter was in his castle. 

Draco looks between Narcissa and Lucius as Harry steps back. “What is he doing here?” He says, lifting his chin to return back to his perfect posture. He doesn’t know what’s gotten over him, but Draco blames the way he’s acting on Lucius, who hardly lets Draco confer with people outside the castle. Draco couldn’t care much about Harry being here, or at least, he could act like he didn’t care. Draco was a prince after all, he can be cold and demanding all he wanted. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be that to Harry.

“Sir Harry Potter here is going to be our new head Guard Knight.” Lucius booms, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “He got an injury during battle and so they moved him over to here. He’ll be staying in the bed chambers along with some other Knights.” Lucius smiles, shooting a weary eye at Draco. “I hope we can show some hospitality to him.” He says slyly, raising a cautious blonde eyebrow. 

Lucius always put on that front. A facade to make it seem as though his family was perfect and organised and happy. He put it on at feasts, at balls and in the presence of the public when making announcements. He did seem glad that famous Harry Potter was in his palace, though, but it was more to do with the fact that he was well respected in the town than the fact that he was a good Knight.

“Yes, Father.” Draco nods obligingly.

“Now, Draco, get Adelaide to- actually, while you’re here, show Sir Harry to the master bedroom in the bed chambers and then have Adelaide give him a tour of the castle.” Narcissa says sharply, her eyes piercing through Draco’s.

“Yes, Mother.” Draco nods and turns his attention back to Harry, who is smiling. Draco stares for a second, captivated by Merlin knows what, and then turns to the door, signalling with his head for Harry to follow. 

Draco waits as Harry pulls the heavy oak door shut and then quickly makes his way through the small corridor until they’re back into the main hallways. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I put Romeo in the stables, I can assure you that he doesn’t bite.” Harry says excitedly, taking in the beautiful architecture of the castle as he walks behind Draco.

“I think Juliet will be fine.” Draco says, his voice controlled to sound nonchalant.

“Juliet’s a beautiful horse.” Harry says, making conversation. He didn’t strike Draco as a talkative type, but then again regarding Harry’s position he may be the most talkative man in the kingdom.

“Thank you.” Draco replies, taking the compliment. He can feel Harry’s watch on his back as he walks in-front of him, but he still moves with purpose. After a minute of silence, apart from the sounds of Draco’s and Harry’s swishing fabric, Draco decides to speak. 

“What’s your injury?” He says, wanting some answers as to Harry’s arrival. 

“Well, on the battlefront I got hit in the hip, and it messed it up. It’s not anything bad but I can’t walk for too long without it starting to hurt and seize up. I’ll live, though.” Harry sighs, rubbing his right hip over the fabric of his trousers. He pauses and then continues, “Cadogen, our commander, demanded that I leave to heal. I protested, of course, because I didn’t want to be stopped by a minor setback and so I asked if there were any Guard Knight jobs. Cadogan said he knew your Father, so he talked and now I’m here, I guess.”

Draco nods and turns the corner, into the far side of the castle. The large hallways turn into small corridors lined with large oak doors. Draco turns to the first door on the right, and stops.

“Right, here’s the key. Adelaide will be up soon, Sir Potter.” Draco huffs, feeling like a servant.

“Harry is fine, Prince, and what’s got you in a mood? Aren’t you going to be welcoming to your guests?” Harry jokes. Draco can tell that Harry is more than happy to be here, and his cockiness is starting to show. Draco didn’t expect much, though, why wouldn’t the most ‘handsome’ and ‘brave’ man in the kingdom be a bit full of himself? Draco supposed that he may be coming off a bit temperamental, but he was a Prince and he could do what he wanted.

“I’m a Prince, Harry, this isn’t my job.” Draco says in exasperation. 

“Ah, of course. Your job is to lie around all day and be fed grapes by your maids.” Harry raises and eyebrow, teasing Draco.

“Don’t expect to come into my castle and act like you own the place. And I don’t get fed grapes, thank you very much.” Draco said defensively.

“What do you do, then?” Harry says, in genuine intrigue.

“I-“ Draco starts, and then pauses. No. He didn’t have to talk to Harry. He was his knight after all. “It’s none of your business.” He adds, which is followed by an eye roll from the man in-front of him.

Draco shoots a scowl and decides he’s fed up. His new suspicions are true, Harry Potter the ‘Knight in Shining Armour’ is an annoying bastard. And Draco’s having none of it. “I’ll send Adelaide up. And don’t expect me to bring your belongings up, too.” He murmurs, staring into emerald eyes.

“Great.” Harry says, and strolls into the room. 

Draco spins on his heel and makes his way back. New mission, ignore Harry Potter. 

*

“Ah, Adelaide.” Draco says turning into his room. “Harry Potter needs you to take him on a tour of the castle. I’m sure you two will get along, you both are very talkative.”

“Oh shush, you. I’ve made you tea and set out some parchment. It’s all in your study. Does my hair look okay?” She asks, swishing the long braid of ashy blonde back and forth.

“Lovely, Ada. And be careful with him, he’s not as charming as they say he is.” Draco warns her jokingly.

“Let me be the judge of that.” Adelaide laughs and makes her way out of Draco’s room.

A sigh. A racing heartbeat. A letter, needing to be written.

Draco sits at the large table, the colours of the window leaving a mystical hue. 

‘Dear Celeste,’ He writes. 

Stupid Potter. Barging into the castle and acting superior. Draco is the superior one here, but it seems to be only him that thinks so. 

Draco drops the quill and rests his head into his hands, thinking about what to write to Celeste. Just something stupid, he decides. She doesn’t care. Well Draco certainly doesn’t, anyway. 

*

“And then this is Prince Draco’s study. As you can see this is Draco’s wing of the castle.” Sounds a voice outside Draco’s study two hours later from when he had first sat down. Draco recognised it as Adelaide’s, even though she sounded more nervous than ever. 

She knocks at the door, laughing at a comment Harry had made while doing so. 

“Come in.” Draco mumbles, straightening his back and putting the quill into the ink.

“Ah, Prince, just showing Sir Harry your rooms.” Adelaide smiles at the doorway. 

Harry stands lazily with his shoulder pressed to the arch of the stone, his body relaxed and his face dopey. 

“Wonderful, Ada.” Draco says, stacking up his parchment. 

“Ooo! Ada! I like that nickname. I shall now call you Ada from now on.” Harry smiles and Adelaide blushes profusely, her hand covering her mouth. 

Draco just rolls his eyes and seals the letter shut. 

“Is that for Celeste?” Adelaide says, walking further into the study. Harry follows behind, looking at the details of the lavish room.

“Yes, Ada. Would you mind taking it down?” Draco smiles, holding the letter out.

“Celeste. That’s a pretty name. Who’s she?” Harry asks, leaning in to look at the letter.

“She’s my- nevermind.” Draco says, his voice catching in his throat. 

“I’ll take it down with us.” Adelaide says subtly, noticing Draco’s words. “Come on, Sir Harry, I have yet to show you the best part!” She laughs excitedly and shuts the door, leaving Draco alone in the room and in his thoughts. 

Fuck. 

Draco runs his hands through his hair and presses his forehead into the cold wooden table. It dawned on him that he really didn’t want to marry Celeste. And for absolutely no reason at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco wakes up the next day with a thumping headache and an aching heart.

The castle is silent as he clicks through the halls, intent on heading to the dining hall for breakfast. The early morning sun filters through the windows, and casts beautiful rays of light across the halls, making the dark grey stone almost glow.

The small dust particles float around the air, swishing behind Draco’s flowing cloak. It was his favourite one, because it was the one that Adelaide had made him. Even though it was scorching outside, he wore the elegant fabric with pride. He ducked through small archways and went down hundreds of steps.

There’s a small smile tugging on his face, but it quickly drops as he opens the door to the dining hall. 

The large room with long tables and glowing sconces is occupied, by his parents and by Harry Potter. 

“Morning Draco.” Lucius nods and gestures to the empty seat opposite him. Next to Harry. 

“Hello Mother, Father. Morning, Sir Harry.” Draco nods, pulling the chair out from under the table.

Maybe ignoring Harry was going to be harder than it seemed, seeing as they were staying in the same castle. Why was he trying to ignore him again? Oh right, because he was a fucking twerp who thinks he so handsome and intelligent. Not to Draco, though. Harry is just an annoying mess of a person, and he completely ruins Draco’s Prince image.

“It’s a fantastic castle you have here, your highness.” Harry says, talking to Narcissa who sits opposite him. “The gardens are wonderful, do you tend to them?” Harry smiles, his tousled hair falling on his face.  
He had some balls to be walking around the castle looking so, unpleasant, but Lucius didn’t seem to mind. Not one bit. He smiled through his mouthfuls of bread and nodded thoughtfully at his words. Well, Harry sure had earned his respect pretty quickly.

“No.” Narcissa smiles, putting her tea down. “Adelaide does all the gardens. I’m always pestering Draco to join her because he does nothing else in his life, but he declines nonetheless.” Narcissa rolls her eyes and Harry shoots a smile at Draco, one that definitely said ‘I knew you were a lazy twat.’

“Mother.” Draco drawls, picking up his own cup of tea.

“I’m just informing Sir Potter about the inner workings of the castle. It’s an honour we have such a brave Knight working for us.” Narcissa informs, shooting a stern glance at Draco.

“Bloody annoying Knight.” Draco mumbles quietly in his hand, which causes a faint laugh to sound from the man next to him. Lucius and Narcissa carry on eating, oblivious to Draco’s annoyance. 

“At your absence, Sir Potter was telling us about his quests and battles. You’re the same age and you have yet to accomplish anything whereas Sir Potter has achieved more at his age than some of our oldest Knights have in their lifetime.”

‘Well, why don’t you bloody take him in as your son.’ Draco thinks in his head, tempted to say it out loud but only releasing a small sigh in its place. 

“Do tell me, Sir Potter, at how you became a Knight so young. Does your Father work in that field too?” Lucius asks, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Oh, no Lucius-“

Lucius. Lucius? Since when have they been on a first name basis? Has Potter really tricked them in to thinking he is so noble?

“My Father died when I was young. So did my Mother. I was raised by a couple of townfolk and then started to live on my own at 16.” Harry said, his voice calm and polite.

“Ah, I hadn’t known that. I suppose that you would have wanted to keep it private from the land.” Lucius nods solemnly, his words full of respect.

Draco hadn’t known that either. Oh. Having no parents but still growing up to be strong. Well now he feels slightly bad. Only slightly, though.

“Yes, the lady’s in land can be a little obsessive at times.” Harry laughs, his face jokingly desperate.

“Ah yes, I see. On that note, though, do you have a mistress? I suspect an honourable young man like you would be on your way to marriage soon.” Lucius questions.

“No mistress right now, actually. I supposed that being able to have time away at this castle would give me time to think.” Harry laughs.

Harry Potter doesn’t have a mistress? Well, maybe that’s something that Draco could show off about. 

“Of course. You don’t want to leave it too late though, Sir. Draco here is already engaged.” Lucius says, and directs his attention to Draco, who is picking around his food with his fork.

“Oh,” Draco says, not realising the eyes staring at him. “Yes, I am.” 

Harry smiled and nods, and goes back to eating his food.

“We’re so very proud of him. I cannot wait until we have our own grandchildren.” Narcissa smiles, seeming genuinely nice. She was a lot like Lucius in the ‘I disapprove of my son not becoming a Knight but at least he will carry on the family blood line’ department. She was also in the ‘Don’t act unkempt. Ever.’ department too. And it sickened Draco even further.

“What’s his Mistress’s name?” Harry asks Narcissa, noticing Draco’s disinterest in the conversation.

“Her names Celeste, she lives-“ Narcissa starts but stops abruptly as Draco stands up, finishing the last of his fancy breakfast.

“Where are you off to, Draco? You can’t just leave when guests are present.” Lucius demands, turning from his seat.

“I’m off to the stables, thank the kitchens for my breakfast.” Draco nods and makes his way out of the hall. Talking about Celeste was painful, and it made it that much worse with Harry Potter in the room. How can he be an all-mighty Prince if he doesn’t act like one, in front of everyone. Even though Draco hated his Father for being so controlling, he sometimes did care about his position.

*

Draco huffed and sighed on his way down to the lake, trying to think about anything but his frustration with everything right now. 

Draco jumps off Juliet and rolls his trousers up, sinking his feet into the vast lake so he could cool down. It was rare for Draco to be at the lake two days in a row, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do rather than wallowing in self pity. 

He had reasons to be sad. To be bored. To be sheltered and cold. To be distant. 

“Draco?” Adelaide said as Draco returned to his room.

“Not now, Ada.” Draco huffed and slumped into his bed.

“Well, Draco, can you tell me-“ Adelaide starts, walking into his room.

“I said not now, Adelaide.” Draco grumbled into his pillow.

“Sir Potter is looking for you.” Adelaide quietly says, picking up Draco’s abandoned shoes from the floor.

“Sir Potter can sod off for all I care. Tell him I’m busy. Writing to Celeste or whatever the fuck I do with my life anymore.” Draco raised his voice a touch, so that Adelaide will get the idea that he wants to be alone.

“Oh.” Adelaide softly says. “Draco, what’s the matter? Has something happened with your Mother and Father?” She says, her breath wavering.

“Nothing at all.” Draco laughs with a grimace, knowing that he’ll have to live his life loving a women that he doesn’t love.

“Is it to do with Sir Potter? I saw that you were quite uneasy last night when he was in your study.” Adelaide quietly says, walking further into the room.

“Will you shut up about bloody Sir Potter!” Draco snaps, turning his head away from the terrified woman that stands at the end of his bed.

“Sorry, Draco. You do know you can tell me anything.” She sighs with a desperate undertone.

Draco was being unfair. Totally and completely unfair. He always told Adelaide his struggles and concerns, because she would listen. She would hold his hand and make him tea and nod as if anything Draco is worked up on makes sense. But this was beyond having a problem with the demanding duties of a Prince, this time it was all Draco’s fault. He had no one to blame but himself. He could blame his Father for putting him into a betrothal, but Draco was the one that decided it wasn’t enough. He was such a naive teenager. He regrets it all but there’s nothing he can do. He has to please the King.

Draco heaves in a heavy breath and lifts his head to speak. 

“I’m sorry for shouting, Ada.” He whispers, blinking back tears. ‘Just suck it up, Draco’ He tells himself, and sits up on the bed. 

“Where is Potter, then?” He smiles faintly, hiding his anger. 

“Outside, by the gardens.” Adelaide smiles back, and makes her way out.

“This better be worth it.” Draco mutters under his breath. He re-adjusts his clothing and makes his way out of the castle.

*

Draco finds Harry on patrol in the gardens, standing idly and lifting a hand to shield his face from the sun.

He walks his way up to him, his chin held up high. 

“You were looking for me.” He says, annoyed.

Harry turns and flashes a smile. “Oh it wasn’t too important. Sorry to take time out of your ‘busy day’” He smirks.

“Oh for fucks sake. What is it? I’m here now, just tell me.” Draco huffs.

“I just wanted to ask about Celeste. We can talk later.” Harry says, shrugging his shoulder.

“Talk about-“ He snaps. “What’s she got to do with you? And who says I want to talk to you anyway?” Draco says in exasperation, waving his hands about.

“Well I just though we should get to know each other.” Harry shrugs and smiles faintly. 

“And why would we do that?” Draco scowls in anger. 

“Well, because we’re friends?” He says, raising his eyebrows in hope.

“We’re not friends, Potter. You work for me. My personal life is none of your business.” Draco chides, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I know, but- well. I don’t know! It’d be nice to know someone in the castle.” Harry shrugs his shoulders in exasperation.

“Well, you have plenty of other Knights to talk to. Look, here’s one now. Arthur!” Draco called, spotting a tall blonde Knight walk past the outside sitting area. 

“Yes, Prince. Is something the matter?” Arthur nods at both Harry and Draco.

“Take Sir Potter with you on your work shift, he’s feeling quite lonely.” Draco says, sucking his teeth in petty humour.

“I’m really not, I don’t have to go.” Harry replies quickly, shooting an angry glance at Draco.

“No, no. I insist. Go on then, you have a castle to be protecting.” Draco smiles and nods politely, turning back towards the castle. 

“You’re rotten.” Harry scowls and walks away, putting on his helmet and nodding to Arthur.

Draco smirks to himself. Serves him right, he guesses. 

*

The sun is slowly setting as Draco leaves the castle, covered by a black cloak. He hides in small alcoves as Knights pass by and ducks under stairways as the maids head off to bed.

The sky is painted with oranges and yellows, illuminating the large castle underneath. 

He pulls the hood of the cloak further down his face, and darts across the connecting pathways to get to the stables.

“Hey, Jules.” Draco whispers, even though he is the furthest away from the castle that he could get without passing through the large iron gates.

Juliet is tugged by Draco as he gets her out of the stables. The grounds are silent and dark now but the fires inside the castle provided a faint glow. 

Draco jumped on top of Juliet, pulled his cloak so that it covered his clothes, and made his way to the secret path that led to the beach.

Draco saw a few Knights dotted around as he travelled to a large cluster of trees, but he decided to swiftly move past to avoid suspicion. 

The walk was silent, the only sound being the breaking twigs and the rustle of leaves. The small path lined with trees opened up to a large beach, where the moon reflected brightly on the calm water. 

The sound of the waves immediately washed Draco over with a sense of peace, and he made his way down further, the floor turning from dirt to sand. 

The beach was much like the lake. Draco could find peace without being disturbed. But Draco liked to run around on Juliet. He liked to feel the wind whipping through his hair. He liked to feel something. 

The moon slowly rose, casting silver hues over the vast beach.

Draco ran his hands through his hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead, the mid-august heat still humidifying the calm night. 

He adjusted his grip on Juliet and breathed in. He was already feeling a lot better. Things were changing in his life. Things he couldn’t control. 

Draco leaned forward and tugged the reins back, causing her to start a fast gallop. The wind picked up at that moment, and Draco revelled in the way it made his clothes flap and skin cold. 

He tightened his grip and leant further forward, and Juliet started to run with speed, her hooves flinging sand behind her.

The world seemed to stop as Draco felt release. His breathing quickened and that only surged him harder into the air. His black cloak flailed behind him and he felt freedom. Like he couldn’t be slowed. Nothing could stop him now. The wind whistled in his ears and his heart jolted against the movement of the run. 

Draco tilted his head back, releasing a heavy exhalation. The wind whipped around his body and Draco felt like he could escape everything if he just kept on riding. Just delved further and further into the compelling silver light of the moon. Into the growing waves. Into the ocean where everything was quiet and desolate. 

He pulled his body back and Juliet stopped in a heartbeat. The sudden change in speed had left Draco breathless. He choked in a cough but it broke through. His body was shaking in need for air, and as the warm air filled his lungs, his eyes began to blink. Began to feign off tears that began to well. Draco yelled in frustration, but if turned into a loud sob. Draco leaned his head into the crook of his elbow, and bit his lip, trying to hold back another sob. It just kept coming though. Everything was dark and fuzzy. His tears dripped down his pointy nose and splatted onto the saddle that he sat on. He let out a shaky breath and tried to stop the tears. He breathed once again, filling himself with air. Grounding himself. He blinked and blinked and blinked before one last teardrop left his swollen eyes. The sound of the crashing waves returned, and Draco headed back, his head held low. 

*

This time Draco couldn’t hide his sadness. He couldn’t fight back something that was inevitably going to happen. One glimpse of a worried Adelaide at the end of his bed had caused the tears to come rushing back. He was holding back days worth of tears. He held them ever since he realised something that will cause a lot of pain and anger. For himself and for others.

“Draco.” Adelaide turned, her hand worriedly clutched around her hair. “Where have you been? Are you alright?” She said quietly, noticing Draco’s slumped posture and disheveled face. 

Draco couldn’t speak. All the words in his head were jumbled. He heaved in one last breath before it all come out again. His knees began to buckle underneath his frail body.

“Oh, Draco. Come here.” Adelaide softly says, her arms reaching out.

Draco interlocks himself in her arms, and he just couldn’t hide himself now. Couldn’t turn back and avoid the problem. 

“Adelaide I-“ Draco sobbed, his face planted into Adelaide’s shoulder. She gripped his arm and moved him onto the edge of bed, where she could hold an arm around him. 

“Take your time.” She whispers, moving her hand from Draco’s side and into his soft hair, slowly pulling the strands through her nimble fingers.

Draco buries his face further into her neck and clutches to the fabric on his bed, trying to get his frustration to subside. His small hiccups grow into loud sobs, and his body begins to shake in weakness. 

“Adelaide, I can’t tell you. I can’t- It’ll just. It’ll ruin it all.” He chokes out, shaking his head against Adelaide’s reassuring body. 

“Draco, you can tell me anything. My job here is to be there for you. Not anyone else in this castle.” Adelaide says, lowering her head so she can catch his attention. 

“But you won’t understand. It’s so stupid. And unfair.” He shakes his head in anger.

“Draco, even if I may not understand, I will listen. And I will help as much as I can.” She smiles, rubbing his arm.

“But it’s not as easy as that. It’s- I can’t-“ He cries, holding a hand to his chest.

“You can, Draco. You can.” Adelaide says, grabbing his hand and tightening her grip around it. 

“I just- It will change everything. And it’s too late now. There’s nothing I can do.” He exhales, closing his eyes even harder. 

“Draco, I will only be able to help until you tell me what the matter is. I’m here for you.” She nods, sighing.

“I-“

A sharp intake of breath. 

“I don’t love Celeste anymore. I- I don’t want to marry her.” He grinds out, breath heavy with sorrow.

“Ah. I see.” Adelaide inhales, taking in the information.

“What changed?” She says after a while, once Draco’s breathing had slowed. 

“I honestly don’t know. One day it was all fine and I was excited for our marriage but then the next it just felt like it was never going to be enough. I’m just greedy. And ungrateful. I should be happy.” Draco says, wiping tears from his face.

“You’re not greedy, Draco. You can’t help it if your feelings change. You don’t deserve to be unhappy.” Adelaide assures him, brushing back a stray hair that had fallen on Draco’s face. “Is there someone else?” She speaks up after Draco has sat up.

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. I just feel bad and there’s nothing I can do.” He says, holding his head in his hands.

“If I could get you out of this, I would. You and Celeste have known eachother for a long time, and sometimes when that happens you feel more of a platonic love than a sexual love.” She says, smiling.

“Please don’t ever say sexual again, Ada.” Draco laughs.

Adelaide rubs him on the back, calming him down before there is a knock at the door.

“Please don’t be my Father.” Draco whispers, trying to hold back another flow of tears.

Adelaide moves towards the door and opens it. Harry stands on the other side, a charming smile on his face.

“Adelaide! Have I got the wrong room?” Harry says, walking back out into the corridors to see if he was in the west wing.

“No, no. Master Draco is in here.” Adelaide smiles.

“Ah, can I come in? I saw him walk...” Harry starts but stops as he sees Draco slumped on the edge of the bed, sniffling and biting his nails.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Is he okay?” Harry whispers, and this catches Draco’s attention.

“He’s alright-“ Adelaide says but Draco interrupts. 

“Get out of my room.” Draco seethes, his back still turned from the two.

“Draco, Sir Harry wants to talk to you.” Adelaide says softly, noticing Draco’s tone.

“Get the fuck out, Potter. This is none of your fucking business.” Draco says, louder now.

“I’ll come back later.” Harry replies, confused at Draco’s anger. 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Adelaide says and closes the door as Harry walks off. 

“Draco,” Adelaide says, but stops. She walks over to Draco and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll be back later.” She smiles and leaves.

Draco’s fucked everything up even more. 

*

Over the next couple of days, Draco ignored Harry. Properly, this time. 

He understood why Harry wanted to get to know him, and fine, maybe Draco wanted to know more about Harry. But Draco was scared. He doesn’t let people into his life that fast. 

And Harry had seen him weakened. Had seen him with red puffy eyes and messy hair. That’s what angered him. He didn’t like people seeing him defenceless. He wasn’t used to it. It was a force of nature that makes him push away people who don’t mean any harm. Who would like to know Draco as Draco, and not a Prince. 

Draco was sat at his plush leather sofa in his library. The rain plummeted against the large windows and the fire cracked and roared. He had a large book spread over his crossed legs, and he closed his eyes as the sound of the heavy rain had filled the room. 

There was a quiet knock at the door, and Draco cracked his eyes open. 

“You can come in, Adelaide.” Draco called, rearranging his position on the sofa. Adelaide had said that he couldn’t change much now, and she was right. But that didn’t stop her from losing all hope on Draco. She payed him even more visits just to see how he was and helped him write a letter to Celeste when he was uninspired to do so. 

There was silence at the door. 

Draco hauled himself off the couch and made his way to the door. He cracked it open and there stood Harry Potter, biting his lip and projecting innocence through his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s you.” Draco said tensely. He knew that his distance had made Harry pretty stubborn. Each time Harry had spotted him around the castle and Draco just walking off, he would get even more frustrated.

“Yeah. It is. Can I come in?” He sighs.

Draco inhales deeply and nods slowly. He’s tired of his game now, and Harry seemed persistent. 

“Yes, yeah.” He softly says, moving back from the door.

Harry says nothing as he walks into the room. He points to the large leather armchair, looking up at Draco.

“Can I sit here?” He says, searching for something in Draco’s face. 

“Go ahead.” Draco coughs, before closing the door and heading back to his seat in the sofa.

Harry sat, staring at the fire. He rubbed at his messy ink black hair and twisted his mouth in thought. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, breaking the silence in the room.

“Sorry for what?” Draco replies, but he already knows the answer to that question. His heart pangs. He should be the sorry one here. 

“I should have just left you alone the first time you pushed me away.” He shrugged. Now Draco felt guilty. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or push you away. It’s- It’s hard.” 

“I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“What? Don’t think I understand having to keep quiet? Being watched under scrutiny by the kingdom?” Harry raised his voice slightly, turning his body towards Draco.

“I hadn’t realised it affected you that much. I thought you liked the attention.” Draco said defensively, sinking back into his chair.

“Draco, I don’t like the attention. In fact, I’m sure I hate it as much as you do. Well the attention focused on your personal life, not the attention focused on your demeanour.” Harry shrugged, playing with the fabric on his wrists.

“I’m sorry, too. This is my castle and I should be welcoming. It doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice to you, though.” Draco gave a weak smile.

“I’m not expecting anything of the sort.” Harry says, shaking his head.

“What did you want to talk to me about, anyway?” Draco says, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s emerald ones.

“Well I just wanted to know more about you.” Harry said in honesty.

“But I don’t understand why on earth would you want to do that. My life is boring, Potter.” Draco shrugged. 

“Boring? Draco, you’re a prince. Nothing in your life can be boring.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You have a future wife.”

“Yes, I do. And?”

“Are you happy?”

Those words. Those three words. ‘Of course I’m not. My Father arranged my marriage when I was fourteen. I had no choice. I’m not fucking happy.’ Draco thought to himself. 

“Yes. Of course I am.” 

“Well then how are you bored? I’m sure Celeste keeps you busy. I remember you giving Adelaide a letter, on my first day here.”

“Why all these questions about Celeste?”

“If I can’t find a maiden, might as well just listen to your story with yours.”

“It isn’t a story, Potter. We’ve known each other for years, she moved away, we kept in contact.”

“Well that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Shut it. I don’t know why you’re asking me in the first place.”

“I’m intrigued, that’s all.” 

“Why are you so, so-“ Draco paused, thinking. “I don’t know. Meticulous.”

“I am not meticulous. I just take my job seriously, and part of my job is to be loyal to you and your family. How am I supposed to be loyal if you and your family don’t trust me first?”

“My Father certainly trusts you.”

“He does?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. He worships you. Saviour Potter, and all that.”

“Well, I’m flattered.” 

Draco hums to himself, in thought.

“Well, when’s the wedding?”

Draco could protest as much as he wanted, but the wedding was still going to happen. He’d live a sad life with Celeste.

“When I turn 20. Some stupid tradition that’s been in the Malfoy family. That’s why my Father was keen on finding me a Maiden so young.” Draco sighed but still kept a smile painted on his face. He didn’t want Harry knowing he hated it. Hated his life where his future is to marry Celeste.

“So, where is she now?”

“She’s coming over at the winter ball. From then on I’ll make frequent trips to her land. It’ll go on like that for a couple years and then the wedding will happen and she’ll move into the castle.”

“Why doesn’t she just move in now? Why go through the trouble of trips?” 

“I ask myself the same thing, but it’s my Fathers doing. If anything it’s good. I like my privacy. Something you obviously don’t take into consideration.” Draco shrugs. 

“You know I could just leave right now. I’m sure you have plenty other people in this castle to scold.”

“I don’t scold people. I just tell it how it is. And I do have people to talk to.”

“What, Adelaide?”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“No, no I didn’t mean it in that way. You two seem pretty inseparable.”

“Well, she is my maid. But she’s also my best friend.”

“She’s lovely.” Harry smiles sincerely.

“Hey, back off she’s old enough to be your Mother.” Draco snapped jokingly, but realised his mistake as the words came out of his mouth. “Oh I didn’t mean to- Bring up- Your-“ Draco started but couldn’t find the words. Apologising wasn’t like him. If someone disobeyed he’d get his Father on them. Draco never felt guilty about his words. But somehow Harry being here and talking to him, he felt inferior. Making Potter upset would only make him feel upset.

“It’s fine, Draco. Really.” Harry smiled, his eyes turning soft.

“Are you sure?” Draco replied, lifting an eyebrow cautiously.

“Yes, I’m sure. I never knew my parents, so it’s hard for me to miss them that much.” Harry shrugged subtly.

“I guess we can share Adelaide as our honorary Mother.” Draco laughed faintly, trying to ease the tension in the room. It wasn’t bad tension, though. It felt sort of like a peaceful silence.

Harry had a large grin on his face, growing wider as he looked at Draco’s features.

“You’ve got a nice library, here.” Harry said suddenly, noticing he was staring.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows at the change of conversation, but eased his face at the compliment.

“Thanks. You’re welcome anytime.” 

“Really?” Harry shot up in his chair.

“Don’t get too excited. You can’t come when you’re working, I don’t want you to get fired.” Draco said sternly and narrows his eyes.

“You don’t?” Harry smiled. Draco’s glare had faltered and his face fell into relaxation.

“No. You’re the best Knight in the land. According to my Father.” Draco said, coughing as he realised he had given Harry a compliment.

“You know, I thought you would be a stuck up brat when I first came.”

“Shove off, I’m not.” Draco replied defensively. It made him wonder, though. Draco was normally a stuck up brat to everyone who entered the castle. But when Harry had arrived, the mask he used so frequently to seem cold had slipped away without him telling it to. 

“You were when you ignored me.” Harry stated, smirking.

“You were trying to-“ Draco started but stopped. He breathed in and decided that it wasn’t worth his time. “Something happened and I took it out on you for no reason.” Draco sighed.

“Is that the reason why you were sneaking out?”

“Yeah, but it’s- It’s fine now.” Draco nodded, trying to push away his sadness.

“Well you should be thanking me. I saw you leave. I could have told your father.” Harry smiled and shrugged innocently.

“Why didn’t you?” Draco said faintly, taken aback by the notion.

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “I can’t disobey the Prince.”

“Don’t call me a Prince.” Draco said with hesitation. It felt odd.

“Why?” 

“We’re friends now.”

“Ha! Honestly, you are a stuck up brat.” Harry laughed.

“Actually no, do go back to calling me a Prince. I want you to tell everyone that the Prince put you in the village stocks.”

“Fine, fine.” Harry sighed with humour. He glanced at Draco for a couple of seconds, before finding words to say.

“I should go, it’s late.” Harry said, standing up abruptly.

“Alright. Will I be seeing you at breakfast? My Father seems to enjoy your company in the mornings.”

“Yeah, he’s given me an open invitation for breakfast whenever I want it.” Harry shrugged. “But he always ends up persuading me to join him in hunting.”

“Sounds like my Father.” Draco sighed and turned his attention to the dying fire in  
front of him. 

“Night, friend.” Harry laughed.

“Night, Knight.” Draco smirked and listened as Harry chuckled while opening and closing the door.

*

Draco went to bed that night with the words ‘Are you happy?’ ringing loudly in his ear.

“One day I will be.” Draco mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr @/ferretboyandpotty! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty long, sorry! I hope you enjoy, definitely one of my favourites so far :)

Draco sits in the bath that Adelaide had prepared for him. His back was pressed up against the wooden circular shape of it, and he sunk lower and lower into the water until it touched his cupid’s bow. Draco wanted to sink lower, to float in the water and look for something that he knows he can’t see. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel for him. Draco searched for light. Searched for something that would keep him afloat. He may have everything handed to him on a silver platter, but sometimes he just wanted to refuse the platter. To send it back to where it came from because it just wasn’t it. It wasn’t enough. He’d rather starve than be force fed.

The weight of the water pushed down on his chest. He slipped calmly under the water, before hearing a clatter at the door, making him shoot up.

“Draco, the waters getting cold. You don’t want to fall ill.” Adelaide tutted, placing Draco’s clothes on the chair that sat by the bath. 

“Alright, Ada. Any letters?” Draco sighed, running his hand through his wet hair.

“They’ll be at the breakfast table.” Adelaide smiles with a grimace, sorting through the items dotted around in Draco’s private bathroom. She had comforted Draco as much as he could in his troubles, but there wasn’t much she could do to change Draco’s fate. She’s trying though, and Draco would never refuse the comforting reassurance that Adelaide has and will always present to him.

Draco groaned and let his head fall back against the rough wooden tub.

“Something wrong with breakfast?” Adelaide asks playfully. 

“Stupid Sir Potter! I don’t know why Father keeps inviting him to breakfast, he’s not that interesting.” Draco drawls, swishing the water around with his pale and slender fingers. 

“Don’t call him stupid, Draco. You said you were ‘friends’ now. And anyway, Sir Potter is very interesting. His stories are fascinating.” 

“It’s because you’re infatuated with him, Ada.” Draco teases.

“Well if you’d take a chance with him you might not be so bored in the castle.” Adelaide shrugs.

“Fine. He’s still annoying though.” 

“Oh shush, Draco. Don’t be a child. Now come one, you’ll be late for breakfast.” Adelaide claps her hands together and makes her way out of the room so that Draco can get dressed.

As he puts his clothes on, he thinks that he would rather be a child. Full of naivety and optimism because he really did not know how life would play out for him, and if being stuck in his 14 year old body was the price to pay, he would gladly take the offer, wanting to save himself before everything had happened.

*

“Lucius, I’d hardly call it a battle, more like a petty squabble.” Harry shrugs, and winces as Lucius slaps him on the shoulder in laughter.

“Oh you do make me laugh.” Lucius grins, returning back to his food on the breakfast table.

Draco watches the scene of his Father and Harry having a light-hearted conversation. He supposed he could get used to it, seeing as most of their previous mealtimes consisted of silence and etiquette.

“What are you talking about?” Draco asks, trying to include himself in the conversation for his own sanity.

“Oh something about Cadogen, Draco. You’ve got a letter there.” Lucius says with a snark, his smile turned downwards at Draco’s presence.

Draco picks up the small letter and unfolds it on his lap, trying to keep it away from the sight of Harry. He turns from the humorous conversation about how Cadogan nearly had to fight a sloth of black bears in the forest. 

It was from Celeste. Of course it was. Draco skimmed his eyes over the neat writing and quickly tucked it into one of the pockets in his trousers. It was a heavy weight in his pocket, even though it was only one thin sheet of parchment.

“I expect you to be competing in the tournament soon, Harry.” Lucius says, his eyes narrowed in question.

“Tournament?” Harry asks, his face lighting up.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of it before, maybe Cadogen kept you out of it because of your age.” Lucius ponders, before going back to his original point. “Cadogen selects Knights to compete in a tournament, and they fight until we have an ultimate winner.” 

“Ah, right. Cadogen used to hold mini tournaments between our teams, but I’ve never competed in a proper one before.”

“I suppose you won all the ones in your training.” 

“I did, Sire.”

“That’s why you’ll be big competition this year. Sir Potter fighting in my castle, how enthralling!”

“Thank you for the praise, Lucius. I’m glad you have faith in me, but at the same time I’m slightly nervous now that you expect so much from me.”

“I have no doubt that you’ll do great, Harry. It’ll be in a couple of weeks, you may want to get your sword sharpened and armour prepared. I’m sure someone can get it done for you.”

“Thanks, Lucius. It’s fine though, I’ll go get them done myself.”

“Your choosing, Sir. Go out of your own time though, the castle needs your watch on it. I trust you with my property, Harry, and I don’t want you to disappoint me.” Lucius says, more sternly now. 

“Of course, your majesty.”

“I’m sure Draco can show you the ropes, seeing as he won’t be in it himself.” Lucius diverts his gaze to where Draco sits, his head held low, pushing his food around.

Draco lifts his head at the mention of his name and nods. “Yes, Father.” 

Draco quickly finished his breakfast, excuses himself from the table and makes his way to his study. 

*

Later in the day, after Draco has written a slightly insincere letter to Celeste and finished reading nearly 2/3 of his book about adventures, he finds himself sitting on the large sofa in his library. His life was peaceful when Lucius was out. It gave him freedom. Well, freedom in the castle. There were no looks of disappointment, and when there were, Draco prepared for them. Although Lucius had allowed Draco to not take up becoming a Knight, he never supported Draco in doing much else. He was his son, but he was also a Prince. There is and always has been a level of class that they need to withhold, and Lucius is not about to risk losing his elite title because of Draco’s disinterest in what is expected of him. Lucius found himself shutting Draco away from the public eye, in hopes that they don’t see a sad excuse for nobility. When Draco was seen publicly, he was sharp and disagreeable. And this was all Lucius’ doing. 

The fire crackles in warmth and life, comfortably heating Draco up even as the late August heat still humidifies the air. 

The door swings open, making the parchment of Draco’s book flutter around. Draco slowly turns his head to see who had rudely disturbed his reading.

Harry stands at the door, his face looking fatigued and sweaty. He takes his arm out from the bulky metal sleeve and pulls the endless links of chainmail over his head. The Knights uniform wasn’t completely hideous looking, but it could do with some improvements in Draco’s opinion. The tunic is long and thick, pulled around Harry’s body with a large black belt. The fabric itself was a deep green colour, the Malfoy emblem embellished in the middle. The emblem was rather big, displaying an image of two snakes facing each other, their silver tongues out and hissing. Draco had thought it was the only thing mildly acceptable that had come from his royal family line, and his Mother agreed with him, wearing a small version of it on a thin leather rope.

Below the excessive chainmail and green-on-green patterns, Harry wore slightly baggy black trousers, covered up halfway by dark leather boots. 

“Busy?” Draco asks, slamming the book shut. Everything seems all too casual. He’s going to have to get used to Harry coming into his private library now, but with the way that Harry slings his outer-garments onto the back of his chair, his open welcome may soon be taken back.

“You know it. Your father keeps taking me out of watch duty so that I can assist him with his practice.” Harry sighed, flopping back into the armchair across from Draco.

“Appreciate the easy work, Potter. Won’t be long until he starts asking you to braid his hair.” Draco smirked, diverting his gaze from the fire to Harry.

“You’re kidding, right? Or was I just oblivious to what I signed up for.” Harry said, his eyes widening in alarm. 

“Of course I am, Potter. He has servants and maids for all of that. And besides, your job is to act tough to scare of any people trying to lay a finger on my family.” He laughed, curling up tighter in the crook of the sofa.

“It’s much more than that, you know. You’d be long gone if I hadn’t arrived to save you.” Harry lifted his chin defiantly.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Potter, or I’ll get you to muck out the stables.”

“Again, that’s not what I do.”

“I have power over mostly everyone in this castle, and don’t think I won’t hesitate to get you fired. The castle might seem much more quiet once you’ve gone on your merry way.” Draco sighed, tilting his head so that it rested on the back of the sofa.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Malfoy. Your Father is practically begging at my knees.”

“Don’t push it, you’ll be begging at his knees so he won’t have you beheaded.”

“I’d much rather keep my head.” 

“Then do what I do, sit still and look pretty.” Draco huffed, a small smile sitting on the corner of his mouth.

“I guess I don’t have to try to hard at that.” Harry shrugged confidently.

“You wish, you oaf. And trust me, it’s better to just be quiet then face the Kings wrath.” 

“Is he really that strict, on his own son?” Harry said in slight pity.

“We’re not an ordinary family, Harry. He has to meet societal requirements and for that to happen I have to comply.”

“So what are you allowed to do?”

“Not much.” Draco shrugged, although it wasn’t something he could brush off as if it meant nothing.

“How about going to town?” Harry asked, and a mischievous look flickered into his eyes.

“Apart from making announcements, no. We have a lot of what the town has in our castle, Father thinks it’s a waste of time to venture outside...” Draco stopped as he noticed Harry’s bright green eyes searching around his face, his mouth twitching into a playful smile.

“I need to get my sword fixed and sharpened.” He stated.

“Okay, and? We have a swordsmith in the south wing.” Draco replied, his eyes narrowing in slight confusion.

“Come with me.” Harry smirked.

“To the swordsmith? You’ll be fine on your own Harry, you’re a grown adult.”

“To town.”

“Bad idea, Potter.”

“Why?” Harry’s smile fell, aggravated at Draco’s quick dismissal. 

“Would you liked to be held in a cell with nothing but water to live off?” Draco said condescendingly, bewildered at Harry’s little knowledge about how things had worked in the castle.

“No.” Harry said, his dark bushy eyebrows furrowing.

“Then I suppose helping me sneak out of the castle isn’t a good way to avoid that.”

“Come on, you’ve never snuck out?” Harry sighed in exasperation.

“I have.” Draco said defensively. He didn’t want Harry to think he was totally boring.

Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco.

“I have! I go to... somewhere that doesn’t concern you. I’m not a goody two shoes, Harry. I don’t always submit to the needs of the King.”

“Then come with me.” said Harry with his smirk returning.

“I’ll be seen.” Draco snapped back in Harry’s change of tone. As much as he’d like for Harry to get in trouble for being a disobedient git, he wouldn’t like to be in the same amount of trouble himself. He had successfully been able to sneak out to the lake and the beach without getting noticed, and he didn’t want his frequent visits to end abruptly.

“Then wear a cloak.”

“You’re a bad influence.” Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

“Never said I was a good one.” Harry shrugged coolly. 

Draco didn’t know what to say, and Harry took that as a sign of consideration.

“Come on, live a little! Surely you want to have a break from talking to Celeste and reading your boring books.” Harry said, gesturing to the half written letter and the pile of archaic books that sat on a small table. 

“I-“ Draco started, but hesitated when he thought it about it further. He wasn’t so concerned about the fact that he might get caught, but it was more about the fact of adventuring outside with Harry.

“Won’t you get recognised, too? Surely you don’t want that.” Draco said in a small voice, loosing the aim of his argument.

“It’s fine, Draco, I’ve lived in that part of town my whole life, if I get noticed I get noticed, it’s just a default part of my job. And I know the people who own the blacksmiths. I’m welcome whenever.”

Draco fiddled with the ruffles at the end of his tunic, trying to find a reason he should stay in but ultimately gave up. He was 18 now, he should be allowed some freedom. He didn’t always have to be controlled by his father. 

“Fine.” Draco huffed, slightly whispering in defeat.

“Fine?” Harry beamed, his eyes widening in joy.

“Yes, yes. Fine.”

“Great.” Harry said, airily. “Great. Good.” He said again, quickly standing from his seat and making his way to the door.

“Now come on, we have to be back for dinner.” Harry said excitedly.

Draco groaned. If Harry had this much of an influence on him now, he’s not sure how he’ll survive with the rest of Harry’s stay. If it will ever end. Draco groaned again.

‘Have fun.’ He thought to himself. The voice in his head sounded a lot like Adelaide, and he decided if he wasn’t going to enjoy the trip out, at least it will make Adelaide happy that he’s living his life by his own rules.

Draco hauled himself off the sofa, adjusting his tunic so that it was tucked loosely into his dark green trousers, and slowly made his way to Harry.

“Right, I know an exit that goes around the gates.” Draco strutted out and Harry followed behind.

“Wait.” Draco stopped, making Harry nearly bash into his back. He stifled a laugh before he turned abruptly. 

“I need my cloak.” He said, scooting around Harry and making his way to his bed chambers down the hallway.

Draco lead Harry through a small passageway that edged around the large entrance gates and the moat of the castle. Harry stopped as they were walking over a dainty bridge that connected an arched hallway to the start of a winding path that snaked around large oak trees. He watched the small ripples that the fish left and cooed over the little ducklings that swam around after their mother. 

Draco thought at that moment that Harry would probably love his lake. He could share another one of his private spots with Harry. He sort of felt like Harry deserved some place where he could rest, because knowing Lucius, he must wear Harry out with all his tasks.

He decided that if the time would ever come to be right, he would show Harry. But for now, he was pretty excited to explore incognito in the busy town.

“Come on, Potter. There’s another time for that.” Draco drawled, tapping his foot against the dry soil under his feet.

“Fine.” Harry sighed, but before he started to walk on, he reached out a hand and pulled the hood of Draco’s dark cloak further down his face, so that only his mouth could be seen. 

“Hey!” Draco growled loudly over the sound of Harry’s chuckles. He tugged the hood back so that it rested on his head and shot a deathly glare towards Harry. 

“Gotta cover up that hair of yours, Draco. It’d give you away immediately.” Harry stated, swinging around the trunk of a tall tree.

Draco swept his hair back before grunting and pulling the hood a fraction of an inch down.

The wood-lined path opened up to an alleyway behind a tavern, and Harry held Draco back with a light hand to his chest, stopping him from walking any further.

Although Harry seemed to think nothing of the touch, Draco felt a warmth that left him breathless, for absolutely no reason at all.

Draco stepped back from the contact to peer around the building that Harry had hidden them behind. “What are you-“ Draco started loudly, but Harry quickly interrupted.

“Shush.” He hissed, darting his head from left to right. 

“Alright.” Draco whispered, concerned about Harry’s intensity.

“Okay there’s none of your Father’s Knights here, but- bloody hell pull that down.” Harry scoffed, looking at Draco’s uncovered face.

“Yes, yes. I though this was an adventure. Why so tense, Potter?” Draco smirked, pulling the hood down.

“I’m not risking my job, Draco. And I don’t want your execution to be my fault. Alright, the blacksmiths is just over there. Follow after me and act- normal. Well as normal as possible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco said, slightly taken aback, as Harry turned into the cobbled street. Draco quickly scuttled behind him, keeping his head held low and trying to keep his expensive clothes covered.

Harry pulled Draco into the blacksmiths, his calloused fingers held tightly around Draco’s pale and narrow wrist. 

The blacksmiths was cozy, much different to the one that was in Malfoy Castle. There were swords and shields lined neatly across the walls, and below sat a comforting fire. The cramped space had people dotted around, looking at the new works created by the owner.

The owner that had just walked through the back door, a large grin on his face at the sight of Harry.

“Harry!” A ginger man called out, before enveloping Harry into a welcoming hug. 

Some of the customers turned at the mans yell, and their eyes had widened in astonishment at Harry’s presence.

“Ron!” Harry smiled, whacking Ron’s back with excitement.

Ron quickly turned at the stirring conversations starting behind him, and then gave Harry a guilty look.

“Sorry, mate. Let’s go to the back. Bring your friend with you.” Ron smiled at Draco, his eyes searching at Draco’s hidden face.

Ron scooted around the growing customers and opened a large oak door, revealing a larger room with metal scraps, furnaces and work tables. There were more gingers working around the room, all smiling and greeting Harry with warmth and comfort. 

Ron opened a second door, leading to a confined area containing a desk and a chair, with parchments covering the whole of the available surface.

“I have so many questions! How’s the castle? Are the bedrooms nice? Is Draco Malfoy actually as snooty as they say?” 

Harry coughed awkwardly at Ron’s last question, gesturing towards the hooded figure that Ron had not thought to be ominous at all. 

Draco lifted his hood, quite displeased with Ron’s statement. He had trusted Harry enough to reveal himself, knowing that he was so close to whoever these people were.

“Merlin, I-“ Ron gasped noticing that Draco was underneath the dark garment.

“Harry, you- Oh Merlin-“ Ron searched frantically around Harry’s face, before turning his eyes back to Draco and bowing rigidly. “What the hell is Draco Malfoy doing in my office?” Ron whispered, his face going red at his embarrassment and also anger.

“I thought he could come with me to get a new sword.”

“But- But Harry!” Ron exclaimed, his eyes darting between Harry and Draco. “He- He’s the bloody Prince! You don’t ask the Prince to come with you to pick up a new sword!” Ron breathed, looking and sounding lightheaded.

Before Harry could say anything, a woman walked in, her brown hair frizzy and her smile wide.

“I heard Harry was here.” She smiled, before her moving eyes landed on Draco. The basket of bread that she carried fell to the floor, along with her jaw.

“Your royal highness.” She curtseyed in politeness, though her face was painted in shock. She sent a deeply confused gaze between both Harry and Ron. 

“What is Prince Draco Malfoy doing here?” She whispered aggressively into Ron’s ear, before shooting a courteous smile towards Draco. 

Draco nodded between the two of them, watching the chaotic scene in front of him. 

“Do you mind if we-“ Ron said quietly, pointing to the door. Harry nodded frantically and stood out of their way.

“I didn’t think they were going to react like that.” Harry laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

Draco didn’t say anything, he just removed the cloak he was wearing as the heat of the furnaces blasted warmth into the office-like area. Draco could hear muffled voices coming from the other side of the door, and Harry just stood, focused on something embedded in his fingernail. This was the first time that Draco had truly seen Harry at loss of what to do, or say or feel. Harry’s friends were charming enough, but Harry seemed to lose his confidence when Draco made it clear that he was confused at the whole situation. It was common for townsfolk to be flustered at his presence, but with Harry being here it felt almost embarrassing. There was a pink flush on Harry’s cheeks, telling Draco that maybe he was embarrassed too.

They slipped back into the room after some bickering, and stared blankly at Draco’s face.

“Tea?” The woman offered, and Draco shook his head. Drinking tea from a place that looked like this might just ensure certain death.

“No thank you, Miss...?” Draco replied politely, wanting to seem somewhat presentable to Harry’s friends.

“Granger, sire. Hermione Granger.” She smiled, still wary of Draco’s presence but not acting odd about it. Ron, on the other hand, stood red faced and bewildered.

“How about we sit?” Ron choked up, his face strained tightly. 

“We can go up to my place.” Harry said, looking up at the ceiling. Hermione nodded and Ron just stayed blank and unresponsive. His focus was primarily on Draco, and he snapped out of the staring as Harry moved towards another door in the room.

“Allow me.” Hermione said, swiftly moving around in front of Harry and letting him and Draco walk past.

The rickety wooden stairs led up to a another oak door, opening up to a mediocre sized living space. The walls were white and uneven, supported by thick dark walnut wood beams. There was a large bed by a small muntin window, and across from it stood a desk dotted with parchments and quills.

Harry led the three of them through to the next room along, which revealed a food store and a table with a set of chairs. Ron pulled one out for Hermione before sitting in one himself, and Harry went to do the same for Draco before Draco raised a hand and did it himself. There was no social etiquette here. He was out of the castle and away from the watch of the general public, so he felt less inclined to act as though he was any more of a person than the other people in this room. He needed a break from all of that, and he had sensed that Harry’s friends could somehow give him the normality that he desired. 

“Well,” Hermione says, breaking through the silence in the room. “What brings you here today, Harry? And with Prince Draco?” She asked politely.

“I honestly just needed a new sword wielded for a tournament coming up, and then Draco came along. He’s cooped up in there, you know.” Harry shrugs with exasperation.

“I am sitting right here.” Draco tutted.

“I know.” Harry batted his hand around Draco’s general area, brushing his remark off. Draco sent Harry a glare and Harry snorted, watching Draco look distastefully around the house.

He turned to find Hermione and Ron sitting still, baffled expressions on their faces. It was one thing to have Draco Malfoy in their presence, but it was another for Harry to actually get along with him.

Draco chose to ignore them and turned back to Harry, brushing off a layer of dust that sat on the table.

“You like my place?” 

“Your place?” 

“Yeah.”

“It’s dusty.”

“Well of course it is, I’ve been at the castle 24/7 for the past two weeks or so, how do you expect me to come home and clean?” 

Draco wrinkled his nose at the idea of this place ever being called a home. The air was damp and cold, nothing like the castle’s.

Harry was about to retort on Draco’s drag, before turning to see Ron and Hermione with their mouths hanging wide open. Again.

“What?”

“It’s just weird.” Hermione said, before her face dropped in horror. “I mean- Malfoy- not that Prince Draco is weird, of course not, it’s just him being here. And his Father letting him out the castle.” She added, not looking towards Draco.

“Well actually he’s not supposed to be here.” Harry said sheepishly, shooting an amused glance at Draco.

“You- What? You snuck him out?” Hermione said quickly, her eyes widening. 

“Oh bloody hell, I’m not getting murdered- who’s going to look after the family after I’m killed!” Ron said in a panic.

“Don’t worry, Ron, you’ll be fine. If anyone is getting killed it’ll be me.” Draco added over Ron’s panic, his face deadpanned.

“Then I’ll be responsible for your death!” Ron shouted, before calming down after Hermione placed her hand on top of his. 

“It’s fine, Ron. I’m just showing Draco what it’s like to have fun.” Harry laughed.

“Merlin, Harry. Death isn’t exactly fun.” 

“I’m just letting him explore. Thought he should meet you two.” 

“Well we’re glad you could come, Harry. And Draco, it is truly an honour for you to be here.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger. Although Mr Weasley seemed to have a different opinion on me when I first arrived here.”

“I apologise for that, your majesty, I’m just quick to judge. I’m sure if Harry can befriend you then I see no reason why it would be any harder for me to.”

“Merlin you’re just like Harry. Becoming friends with everyone after five minutes of knowing them.” 

“It’s called being nice, Draco, try it out sometime.” Harry interrupted.

“I am nice! It’s just that my Father has controlled how I act in front of others. I’m rebelling.”

“Hardly. And it didn’t stop you from acting snotty when we first met.” Harry shrugged, a smirk sitting nicely on his face.

Draco just scowled back, before turning to Ron and Hermione. Draco supposed he could befriend them. He was feeling adventurous. Defying his father had done wonders to him, even though all he’d done is leave the castle without his supervision. The nerves that he felt earlier had settled, and what took its place was adrenaline. He actually felt sort of alive. 

“So how do you all know eachother?” Draco asked, crossing one leg over the other. One other thing that Lucius had forbidden him to do.

‘Sit properly, Draco.’ He had spat, shoving Draco’s chair forward. It left a painful bruise on both of his knees and he learned to never to it again in front of him. He wasn’t here now, though, and Draco even dared to uncross his hands and place them carelessly over his legs. 

“One of the townspeople that looked after me was friends with Ron’s mother, and so we saw each other often. Hermione was local to the workshop and she visited almost everyday. Ron and I had thought that she just had an interest in wielding, but now we know it was because she was in love with him.” Harry said, earning a chuckle from Ron and an exasperated gasp from Hermione.

“Oh shush, it was a team effort.” Hermione said, covering up her smile.

“Oh, sure it was. Well anyway, I was 16 and had just signed up to be a Knight and needed a place to stay that was close to Cadogen’s training area. Ron said that the flat above his workshop was free and if I could deal with his loud family then it’s mine. I’ve dealt with his loud family for a long time now, so it was a no brainer.” He shrugged, sending a humorous smile towards Ron. 

“It was crazy when we found out Harry wanted to be a Knight. It was practically impossible for a person living around here to become one, and we had thought Harry was a lazy bugger who didn’t go out.” Ron grinned.

“I did go out!” Harry retorted, playfully holding his hand over his heart in mock-offence. 

“Well luckily you did and Cadogen found you, who knows where you’d be if that didn’t happen.” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders and giving Harry a warm smile.

“Yeah, who knows.” Harry replied, catching Draco’s eyes and reflecting something that Draco had never seen before and something he couldn’t understand.

“Well we’d all be dead if you hadn’t taken down the enemies team.” Ron laughed nervously, and Harry’s eyes snapped away from Draco’s.

“Reminds me of the time when my hip was actually fully functioning.” Harry sighed, playing with a small dent in the wooden table. 

“How is your hip, by the way?” Hermione asked.

“Fine, really. I haven’t had an accident so far but with the amount of training Lucius is making me do I don’t know when it’s going to start giving out.” 

“My bet is soon, he’ll manipulate you until it falls off.” Draco scoffed, now feeling anger at his Father that he could have had a normal life with normal friends like Ron and Hermione. 

Hermione’s mouth dropped at Draco’s statement. Maybe Draco was being a bit harsh, but he didn’t feel bad. Not at all. 

Hermione scrabbled for words and then straightened her position. “I’m sorry, Sire, but I’d thought you’d have been more defensive about your Father. I know many people are not a fan of him, but I hadn’t realised you weren’t one too.” Hermione stated, before shrivelling into herself at Draco’s neutral face.

“My Father isn’t exactly a saint, Miss Granger, nor is he a tyrant. But he has his ways of doing things that I don’t particularly agree with.” 

“Makes sense.” Ron mumbles.

“It’s a good thing though, I guess, I don’t know what you would have done if we had told you a story about Harry without knowing that.” 

“Care to enlighten me?” Draco says, raising an eyebrow and wanting to know more about Harry. 

“When we were 14, Harry used to get parchment and-“ Hermione started before Harry cut in.

“No!” Harry groaned, rolling his head back. “Not this bloody story.”

“Do carry on, Hermione.” Draco said, incredibly interested in the ‘bloody story’.

“He’d make little crowns- and- and pretend to be your Father.” Hermione said, the second half coming out as barking laughs. 

Harry blushed immediately and this is what set Draco off. The story was great, but seeing Harry react like that just put the cherry on top.

He snickered behind his hand, trying to cover it up as a natural reflex.

“And did you look like him?” He asked, grinning.

“Of course I didn’t, Draco.” Harry rolled his eyes sardonically.

Ron wiped little tears from his eyes, apparently finding the story hilarious. Draco thought that if he were there he’d understand just how god-awful Harry’s joke was, and then it led on to him thinking if he and Harry would ever have been friends if they knew each other then. Draco grimaced at the thought. No, they wouldn’t have, Draco was the Prince and Harry was just townsfolk. Besides, even if they did know each other, he was too busy getting married off to join in Harry and his friend’s fun.

“So, mate, you said you needed a new sword? Are they putting you back on the field?” Ron asked, placing his hands on the table and folding them, trying to seem business-like.

“Nah, not yet. The King’s having a tournament, I’m taking part.” Harry said, hitching his shoulder up.

“Harry, don’t you think that’s a little dangerous? I mean firstly your hip, but also you could be exposed to someone who might want to hurt you badly.” 

“That’s the point of the game, Hermione. But I get where you’re coming from.” Harry said, sending a knowing glance to Hermione.

There was obviously things that Draco didn’t know about all three of them. There was still so much he had yet to learn about Harry as well.

“And anyways, Draco is spectating with the King and Queen, he’ll be able to tell if someone’s trying to have at me.” Harry said, pointing aimlessly at Draco.

“You’re not taking part, then?” Ron said, turning to face him.

“No, not my type of thing.” Draco replied with snark, his lip curling. He then stopped, realising these people were now treating him as he if he were normal. He has to give the same amount of respect back.

“Did you want something fancy, then? The ‘shop has been quiet recently so we have more time on our hands. And Mum and Dad are spending more time at home so we have more space to work with.” Ron said to Harry.

“Yeah. My first royal tournament. Got to make it a good one.” Harry said, a challenging, wicked grin on his face.

“Don’t have high expectations.” Draco drawled, because it was actually very boring. Draco would rather write a million meaningless letters to Celeste than have to spectate people dressed in metal playing with metal.

“I want red gems.” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s statement.

Ron raised his eyebrows, his mouth twisting in hesitation. “It’ll cost you, mate. I know we normally do swords for free but we can’t give away the expensive items.” 

“I’ll get it.” Draco said, shrugging. He’d never and will never have a problem with money. In fact, he felt like he had too much that he didn’t know what to do with it. 

Harry’s head turned so fast it could have snapped it. “It’s alright, Draco. I’ve been saving, not having to buy food and all.” 

“No, I insist.” Draco said, vaguely remembering saying that to Harry when he was teasing him. Now he was helping him. 

Harry’s mouth raised into a smile, and he turned to Ron who was nodding in agreement and Hermione who had a small blush on her face. 

“Thanks, Draco.” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You’re welcome.” He said, before pulling a money bag full of gold pieces out of his trouser pocket. He didn’t really know how much a sword was, so he just placed the whole bag onto the table. He had thousands more of them at the castle, so it was no loss. 

“Aren’t you going to, you know, take out a bunch of them. It’s only thirty gold pieces for a sword. Forty-five more for gems.” 

“Take it all.” Draco shrugged, pushing it further down the table. 

Ron and Hermione’s mouths both dropped, their eyes widening at the black drawstring bag. 

“You can’t be serious? There’s- There’s like- Hermione how much?” Ron said, gaping in between words.

“At least five hundred. Give or take.” Hermione replied back, as astonished as Ron.

Draco knew that they didn’t have much, seeing as the shop and Harry’s flat are quite small, and that they had their own house to pay for, and all the people in their family that they had to pay for, too. 

Draco now felt kind of bad, making it seem like he was just so much better because he was so much richer. He began to frown, and he turned to Harry, who was smiling at him. Maybe money never made anyone happy. Ron and Hermione and the rest of them seemed to be doing fine by just simply sticking together. Draco smiled faintly back at Harry, and then turned to look at the two stricken people. 

“Maybe you can use the rest to hire a maid that will clean Harry’s mess of a flat. I’d be done for it my living area looked like this.” 

“Hey!” Harry said, shaking his head lightly. 

“Thank you, Prince Draco.” Hermione said, bowing her head. Ron did the same. 

Draco had only hoped he didn’t make them feel inferior. His first time meeting people who weren’t working for him or some sort of royalty, and he’d still probably left a bad impression. 

“We’ve got to get back.” Harry said, standing up from his place. 

Draco stood up too, and then Ron and Hermione. 

“The sword’ll be ready in 2 days, it’ll be in the usual pick up spot.” Ron said to Harry before turning to Draco. “Thank you, Prince.” He said, bowing. And then again. 

“There’s no need, Ron.” Draco said, holding his hand out for Ron to shake. Ron took it almost immediately, smiling greatly as he did so. Draco turned to Hermione and did the same. 

Draco stood back as Harry hugged his friends goodbye, and then walked out of the room, making Draco walk swiftly behind. 

When Draco looked up as he turned into the back-room, eight faces stared at him, their eyes and mouths wide in shock. 

“Whoops...” Harry said, turning back to see Draco. “Ron and Hermione will explain.” Harry quickly added, before pulling the hood onto Draco’s head and walking out. Draco followed behind again. 

The front of the shop was empty, and Harry and Draco managed to get from the building to behind the tavern without being seen. 

They went back the way they came, but Draco had something on his mind. He got as far as the path leading from the trees to the archway until he had to say it. 

“What Hermione was saying, earlier.” Draco started, his sudden talking making him stop in his tracks.

“Yes...?” Harry asked, nervous. 

“Don’t look so alarmed, I’m not arresting her or anything. I just wanted to know. Are there people still after you? After your accomplishments on the field?” He finished, twiddling his thumbs.

“There’s never not anyone after me, Draco. But yeah, I suppose so. That’s a day I won’t forget. The other kingdom is mad with what I’d done to their head Knight, and they didn’t let me go easily. I’m still not sure if they’ve completely let me go even now.”

“I know what happened that day, I remember Ada telling me about it. Everyone was happy, including my Father. Was the reason why you came to my castle because you wanted safety?”

“I don’t really know. As you probably know I still went into battle for a good two years until my hip got injured, then I came to yours. Cadogen had suggested it when I was 16, but I declined. I was not giving up that easily.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

Harry just rolled his eyes. “But there’s still people who are mad. So I am much safer in the castle then being anywhere else. I’m glad for it, though.”

“Why are you, though? Surely my father overworks you and you get bored standing guard.”

“There are perks, Draco.” 

“Like what?” Draco said, baffled, because if he were a Knight with a hip problem he wouldn’t like to be in a castle working for a snobby young adult who could behead him in a blink of an eye.

Harry stared into Draco’s face for a couple of seconds, something on the tip of his tongue, but his face dropped and he shrugged with a smile. “Nothing. Everything. Romeo sure likes the stables.” 

“Like he can just tell you he likes them.” Draco said, scoffing. 

“Do you not talk to Juliet, Draco?” Harry replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“That’s absurd, horses can’t talk.” 

“Maybe with magic they can.” He said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Magic doesn’t exist, Harry. But in a sense she does talk to me through body language.”

“That’s what I mean by talking, you pillock.” Harry laughed, turning slowly on his heel.

Draco stared angrily into Harry’s face as they walked on, and then he let it go, understanding that Harry was teasing. He knew he was teasing right from the start, but there was something else in his voice when he said it. Draco ignored him and stepped over the bridge, making their way back into the castle. 

*

They got to the corridor that split off in two directions, ready to say goodbye. Something stopped them before they could. 

“Harry!” Lucius called, turning the corner and seeing Harry.

Draco quickly stepped back into an alcove so that Lucius couldn’t see him.

“Yes, Sire?” Harry replied politely, slightly out of breath.

“Join Draco, Narcissa and I for dinner, won’t you? You’ve been great company at breakfast and I’m sure the Knights table in your chambers gets boring after a while.” Lucius said, walking closer to where Harry was standing.

“Ah, yes, Sire. Thank you.” Harry nodded quickly, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Great. And if you see Draco tell him that he has to get his crown polished for the battle. And has he told you anything about how it works yet?”

Harry’s eyes quickly darted off to the side to look at Draco crouched in the corner of the stone. He turned his attention back to Lucius and shook his head. “No, Sire.” 

“Of course he hasn’t.” Lucius tutted. “Come at seven, it should all be served as you arrive.” He stated, patting Harry on the shoulder. He turns down the next corridor that lead to his drawing room and disappeared out of sight.

Draco walked out of the alcove, sighing heavily in relief. Harry looked back at him, and they both collapsed in laughter. 

“How was your first outing?” Harry said, a grand smile on his face.

“I am sweaty, my heart is going a million miles per hour and I could quite literally eat a horse right now.”

“I’ll make sure to secure the lock on Romeo’s stable door.” Harry says, laughing, with no note of nervousness at all.

Draco smiles at the floor, the sound of Harry’s laughter making his heart beat even faster, if that was even possible.

“I’m not lying about the sweating part, honestly. I think I’ll be having a bath.”

“Right, yeah okay. Get your crown polished.” He adds with a wink, before turning to his room further into the castle.

Draco goes towards the west wing, nearly walking into a suit of armour - or what could have been an actual Knight - on his way there.

“Ada?” He says, finding her in his bedroom, looking out of the diamond-glass window.

“Ah, Draco.” She sighs, playing with her hair.

“What is it?” He asks cautiously, noticing a grand smile on her face. 

“You’ll be proud of yourself when the sky turns pink again.” Adelaide quotes from the top of her head. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That, whenever you see a pink sky, know that you’ve survived just that little bit longer. And then you see it, again and again and again. And you know that there’s something worth fighting for.” She says, turning towards Draco and squeezing his elbow with a delicate hand.

Draco relaxes at Adelaide’s words, and knows that she can see though his facade. He really should start opening up more. What was there to lose? “But I don’t, Ada. Soon I’m going to be married off.”

“You have Harry.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t recognise my own cloak that I spent hours on making?” 

“Oh, right. You saw us.” 

“You’re going to have to up your sneaking out game, Draco. If your Father finds out I’d expect for you to be grounded for eternity.”

“It’s just- The castle is so restricting!” Draco flopped back into his bed. “The lake and the beach is the only place I can go, and it gets boring staring at body’s of water for hours on end.”

“You just have to be patient, Draco. I know what your going through, and even though I don’t completely understand, I do want what is best for you. You may not tell me everything, but I know you, Draco. I have known you for years. And don’t think for one second that I will judge you, or criticise you, or tell you what to do to. I know that you have enough of that already. One day, things will be different, and you won’t have to listen to your Father anymore. You may still have to be married to Celeste, but it’s not like you two are strangers.” Adelaide stopped, catching her breath, and then moved to sit on thenext to Draco. “Everything will be fine when the time comes. Your Father cannot control your life forever.” 

Draco was glad that Adelaide understood what he was saying, even if when it came to the idea of him not wanting to marry confusing. Draco didn’t understand either, it was just a gut feeling that he couldn’t let go. But the thing is, Draco had been so distracted by his adventure with Harry, that he had forgot all about his situation. It was freeing, and that was all Draco wanted. 

Freedom.

Adelaide pushed Draco’s hair back before standing up and picking up Draco’s dirty clothes. 

“You dinner will be soon, Draco. Think of pink skies.” She said, smiling, before cracking open the door and walking out. 

Pink skies don’t exist, he though to himself. He’s never seen one. 

*

At dinner, Harry sits opposite Draco, with both Narcissa and Lucius on either side. They looked like they could be a happy family, if only Harry had been less tanned and had platinum blonde hair. 

“What did you do then, Sir Harry? I saw it was your day off.” Lucius said, pushing his wooden bowl forward so that a maid could fill it with mushroom soup. It looked that a brown mush, but as Draco got his serving and had tried it, the mushrooms burst in his mouth, and it was deliciously salty. 

“Fine, Lucius, went to get a new sword.” Harry replied.

Draco used his proper spoon, whereas Harry, who obviously had no manners or table etiquette training, picked up the biggest spoon on the table, almost the size of a ladle, and scooped the mixture of food messily into his mouth, shoving a large chunk of bread immediately after it.

Draco dropped his head into his hand, trying to hold back a groan at how appallingly horrible Harry was at being formal. Narcissa just watched, delicately spooning the hot liquid into her mouth, trying to avoid saying something. Lucius just shuffled in his seat, bristling at how inappropriate eating dinner like that was. Harry looked up after loudly swallowing his food, and a striking red blush appeared on his cheeks. Draco inched his leg forward and gave a discreet kick to Harry’s leg. Harry only shrugged back, directing with his hands to Draco’s own food, indicating that he show him. Lucius just struck up a conversation with Narcissa, obviously trying not to say something and offend his guest. 

It wasn’t like Harry hadn’t done this before, though. He’d slurp his cups of tea, scratch his silver fork against the clay plates and left crumbs of everything absolutely everywhere.

Draco picked up the spoon he was using from his bowl, showing to Harry that ‘this is the right spoon, you pillock’ and ‘it’s the one that isn’t the size of my fucking palm.’ 

Harry found the right spoon in the assortment of others, and picked it up. Draco slowly and exaggeratedly dipped his spoon into the stew, acting like he was teaching a child. Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes, scooping one mushroom instead of four onto the spoon and lifting it graciously- or what as gracious as possible for him- to his mouth. Draco nodded courteously and returned to his own meal, before there was a slopping and mashing of teeth and Draco looked back to Harry, who had his mouth open, broken up mushroom obvious in his mouth. Narcissa looked away from her hushed conversation with Lucius and gave a small but conventional glare at Harry, and then an even deeper and darker one at Draco. Draco slumped his shoulders, giving up hope. He gave another kick, heavier this time, to Harry’s shin, opening his mouth, shutting it the next second. Harry nodded, and the next time he ate it was far better than the first attempts.

They finished their meal in relative silence, Lucius informing Harry about the tournament because Draco hasn’t bothered to do it himself. 

*

The next morning, Draco takes a quill and a fresh piece of parchment from his study and makes his way to the lake. Before he left, he dashed to his library to get a book and found Harry sat on Draco’s leather sofa where, curled up with a book in his lap that Draco was halfway through reading. 

“Harry?” Draco asked, out of breath from his running around.

Harry turned quickly around, folding the corner of the page and snapping the book shut. Draco cringed at having to undo the crease, but before he could voice his thoughts about Harry’s disrespect for his expensive books, he noticed Harry’s alarmed face.

“Ah, Draco- I just wanted to- You said that I could use the library and I got bored, I can go, it’s fine. Here’s your book and- Oh Merlin I’m so sorry.” Harry rushed out on one breath, scrambling around the area in-front of the hearth. 

“Harry, calm down. Yes of course you can use it, you don’t have to ask.” 

Harry visibly relaxed at Draco’s words.

“Merlin you were running around like a headless chicken! Did you think I was going to punish you?” Draco laughed, something that came deep from his chest. 

“I don’t know! It’s nerve-wracking, I feel like your Father is always watching.” Harry said, looking around, checking behind an aisle of books to see if an angry Lucius was there to tell him to get back to work.

“Oh trust me, he is. But he hardly comes up here.” Draco shrugs.

Harry stares at Draco, something intense in his eyes before they lowered to the things that Draco was holding.

“Are you going somewhere?” Harry asked lightly, pointing to the stationary. 

Draco didn’t realise Harry was talking, he was too caught up on that stare, no, more like gaze on his face. He didn’t seem to mind, though. Ever since their adventure yesterday, Draco feels comfortable in Harry’s presence. 

“Yeah, I am.” He said, before remembering about Harry’s eagerness about the nature surrounding the castle. What harm could it do if Harry saw his lake? 

“Where? Is if the announcement for the tournament?” Harry asked, walking over to where Draco was standing by the door.

“No, Father’s doing that next week.”

“Oh, okay.”

“How about you come with me.”

“To where?”

“You’ll see.” 

“Ominous.”

“Oh, I am full of surprises.”

Harry laughed and followed Draco through the door, saying under his breath “Oh, definitely.”

They snuck through the corridors, Draco giving an even more detailed tour to the castle, knowing that Adelaide hadn’t known every single secret that was lying in the stone of the castle. 

Before they could reach the start of the forest, Harry’s hip began to hurt. Draco didn’t really know what to do, seeing as he hadn’t experienced Harry in this type of pain before. Harry brushed it off and told Draco to keep walking, but Draco refused, not wanting to be responded for the death of Sir Potter. Draco changed their route, making a stop to the stables. Harry said hello to Romeo, stroking his face and feeding him grass, then clambered onto Juliet, who Draco had hauled out and prepared with a double-saddle. 

Draco, with a lot more elegance and decency, climbed on top of Juliet. And took him and Harry through the forest. Harry was a sure and warm weight behind him, providing with a different type  
of warmth that the early september sun was giving him. He could feel the presence of Harry’s hands at the grips on the saddle, and nearly made them slip when he remembered what he was doing, distracted by the thought that if Harry had just leant a tiny bit forward, or Draco moved a tiny bit back, Harry’s knuckles would be pressing into his hips. Draco quickly snapped out of that idea, completely confused about where it had developed and questioning why he would ever want Harry to be touching him. 

The trees opened into the mossy clearing, and then they could see the expanse of the glimmering lake.

Draco jumped off of Juliet, and held out a hand for Harry to use as he climbed down. 

Harry stood in awe immediately as he set foot on the ground. It wasn’t the biggest spectacle in the world, Draco thought, but there was something in the way that Harry was looking at it, with the sun glinting off the surface and onto his face, that made him see it through new eyes, and fell in love with the area all over again. 

“Wow.” Harry breathed out. Draco guessed he had gotten used to the sight by now, and he realises just how much he doesn’t pay attention to things when there are other and greater problems to deal with in his life. 

“This is my lake.” Draco said, smiling in something like proud. He hadn’t even made the lake for goodness sake, he reprimanded himself, but it was something that he made his, even if his only contribution was tidying up some of the leaves whenever they fell. 

“What’s its name?” Harry asked, waking closer to the shore. 

“It doesn’t have a name, Harry, it’s a lake.” Draco tutted in a sarcastic tone. 

“Oh come on, you can’t just call it ‘a lake’.”

“Well I’m sure it had a name, it’s not actually my lake. I bet you there’s a book about it in the castles main library.” 

“I’ll name it. Hmm...Lake Lucius?” Harry asked, shrugging.

“You’d think I’d name a lake, private to basically only me, after my Father?” Draco asked, exasperated.

“It’s your middle name though, isn’t it?” 

“Yes. Irrelevant.”

“Well then what?”

“What about you middle name?”

“James?”

“After your Father, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’d like to call it ‘Lake James’.”

Harry just stared at Draco, something scarily close to a sort of affection, and smiled. Something so genuine and pure. 

“I love it.” He replied, turning back to look at the lake. “Lake James.” Harry bent down to pick up a small, flat stone. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, before skipping it over the water with 5 littles bounces.

“How did you do that?” Draco asked, walking over to where Harry stood. 

“You don’t know how to skip a stone?” Harry asked, turning to study Draco’s face.

“I’ve never had anyone teach me.” Draco shrugged. 

“I’ll teach you. It’s not too difficult.” Harry said, smiling with that smile again.

“Don’t you have work soon?” Draco asked, obviously wanted to accept but worried that he’ll just embarrass himself or they’ll run out of time after his many failed attempts. 

“Not until a bit.” Harry smirked. He bent down to pick another flat stone off the floor, passing it to Draco. “You try.” 

Draco braced himself for disaster. “You might want to step back, I’m really horrible at this.” Harry did as was bid, and watched as Draco swung his arm back and propelled the pebble into the air. It splashed against the surface, and sunk with a glug. 

He turned to Harry, who was trying to smother a smile. “What did I say?” He said with a sigh and an over-exaggerated frown. 

Harry just shook his head with a light laugh, before finding a stone and placing it flat in Draco’s palm. Then he did something that made Draco startle. His hand pressed the small of Draco’s back, angling his body sideways instead of Draco’s straight-on stance. Harry only chuckled and looked away, before taking the hand the had the stone in and placing his calloused fingers over long pale ones. 

“You’re pulling back to far, you see, and you’re letting go to fast. You want it to glide, not plonk.” He said in a reassuring tone, taking the impromptu lesson seriously. 

Draco nodded, even though he wasn’t hearing a word. All he could feel was Harry’s hand on his, and how strange it felt. Something new, something unfamiliar. He tried to pull out of the touch, but found no use. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, and Harry wasn’t any help either. He was just looking out, across the lake. 

Draco was just about to ask a question about the way he should position his feet before the sound of charging horses came his way. Through the thick group of trees, Draco could faintly see his father and a group of 5 other men, probably his most respected Knights, heading this way. The was a deer just a few feet in front of them, running for its life. 

“It’s my Father.” Draco said, quickly manoeuvred himself out of Harry’s grip and tugged them towards Juliet, trying to get away as fast as possible. Harry didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t really need to, and climbed back on to Juliet, gripping on to the dark leather. They went around the. group of men, far enough so that they couldn’t have been spotted and sped their way up back to the castle.

“Deer hunting?” Harry half-shouted, the sound of hooves and the whipping wind making it hard to hear.

“Yeah.” Draco called back, turning to see Harry behind him, his curly black hair flapping wildly behind him. The castle was near in sight and Draco lead them secretly to the stables, depositing Juliet. 

“That was close.” Harry laughed, clapping Draco on the shoulder in relief. 

“Just a bit.” Draco nervously laughed back. They walked across the grounds, stepping over the treasured Alstroemeria Lilies and onto the back path. 

“I’ve got to go write this letter to Celeste, now. That was the main reason why I was on my way there in the first place. Peace and quiet.”

“Sorry.” Harry said sheepishly, turning the corner to make his way to his sleeping chambers. “Have fun with your letter.” Harry smiled, it not quite reaching his eyes. Draco missed the full, teeth-bearing, full lipped smile that he had seen not even ten minutes ago. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he turned to go to his study. His heart was beating, his head was sweaty and he could quite literally eat a horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @/ferretboyandpotty <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chap is short! I promise the next one will be action packed <3

When Draco wakes up the next day, his heart is still beating a thousand miles per hour. 

He has a grand smile painted on his face, and he doesn’t even cover it when Adelaide turns up to open his curtains and get his stuff ready for the day. 

“What’s that smile for?” She said, rattling around one of Draco’s drawers.

“Oh nothing.” Draco smiles and shrugs. The adrenaline from yesterday still courses through his body, and all he wants to do is go to the stables, get on Juliet and fly across the beach. And this time he wasn’t going to cry. He doesn’t feel like he needs to. Although nothing has been resolved, and it never will be, he has a good feeling about the next couple of months. Maybe it’s because Celeste is coming later in the year, maybe it’s because the tournament happening in a couple days (which he’s definitely not excited for, apart from the fact that he can see Harry in combat and tease him about it later), maybe it’s actually because of Harry that he-

“You’re getting a portrait done today, by the way. Your Mother requested Pierre in and he should be arriving in a couple of hours.” Adelaide says, interrupting Draco’s train of thought. 

Draco groaned into his pillow. He absolutely dreaded having his portrait done. He’s had to have one every year of his life for as long as he remembers, and he still wasn’t used to the numbing pain of sitting on a wooden stool for hours.

“Alright, thanks Ada.” Draco rubbed his sleepy face. Draco headed down to breakfast, hoping Harry might be there so he could entertain him, but as he passed through the courtyard, he saw Harry on duty with Knight Arthur. 

The table was quiet that morning, and Draco misses the sound of Harry’s slurps and the way he holds his cutlery. He would have though it odd if he thought about Harry this much when he first arrived, but now Draco had found a remedy for his boredom and he really enjoyed the adrenaline rush from his earlier outing. 

*

Draco arrived at the gallery after sneaking a ride with Juliet, and found Pierre setting up his paints and easel. Pierre had shoulder length salt-and-pepper hair and hobbled around on nobly knees. 

“Ah, Malfoy, my boy.” Pierre said, even though Draco’s known him all his life and there wasn’t a need for the use of last names. Draco had just concluded that Pierre was like that, eccentric and charmingly odd.

“Sit, boy, sit.” He said with through his thick French accent, gesturing towards a wooden stool by the stain glass window. The dreaded wooden stool. Draco grimaced, already knowing that his arse will be dead by the end of this. 

The sun shone through the delicate glass, leaving green shadows drifting through. Draco wafted his hands through the rays, making his pale skin glow. 

“Yes, nice light today, sit up.” Pierre said, his words clipped. Draco shuffled back onto the seat, straightening his back and smoothing down the strands that had escaped from his floppy hair.

Pierre lifted a large canvas onto the easel, and began studying Draco’s positioning. He gestured with his hands, rather aggressively, to shuffle this way, or jut his hip out more. 

“Never learn, boy. Eighteen years, still always moving out of place. Does not do well for my art, eh?” 

Draco just rolled his eyes and let Pierre get on. Before Pierre could add even a stroke of paint to the canvas, there was a light knock at the door.

“Come in, come in.” Pierre said, and the door slowly opened to reveal Harry. 

“Harry?” Draco asked, wondering why Harry was on the complete opposite side of the castle than normal. 

“Ah, Sir Potter!” Pierre said, before Harry could even start to form a sentence.

Pierre pushed the door even wider, inviting Harry in. Harry looked from Pierre to Draco, and then noticed the easel. His face lit up in understanding and he didn’t really know what to do.

“Lost, Potter?” Draco said with a little tease.

“Adelaide said you’d be in the gallery, I didn’t realise you’d be getting a portrait done.” Harry shrugged, letting himself be pushed further into the wood-panelled room. 

“Any reason? I doubt Pierre would let me go until he’s finished.” Draco gestured towards the paints that sat on a table. 

“Just wanted to see if you were busy. I was going to ask about a book in your library but you’d have to be there to answer.”

“Don’t you have a shift?” 

“I took it this morning, was hoping I could visit James again later in the day.”

“Ah, perfect,” Pierre said, a grand smile on his face. “You can help with portrait!” 

Harry looks worriedly from Pierre to Draco. “Er...I suppose?” 

“Great, great!” He said, pulling a stool from across the room next to the canvas. “Sit, Sir, pass paint and get water.” 

Harry sat and watched as Pierre began to paint Draco onto the canvas. This was going to much longer than Draco had previously anticipated.

*

“Gorgeous boy, this Malfoy, eh? Cheekbone, lips, very good for painting.” Pierre said to Harry.

Harry nodded, although it hardly looked like he was paying attention to Pierre. He was looking, sort of studying Draco’s face. Draco squirmed slightly under Harry’s gaze, whatever the meaning behind it sending shivers up Draco’s spine.

“Hold still, boy, I am not finished.” Pierre demanded. And so Draco held still for three hours. And Harry did not move one step. Pierre seemed to like Harry, showing him the progress, pointing to the different shades of green with enthusiasm, noting loudly once every couple of minutes that: “Green like your eyes, Sir. Like...er...peas.”. Pierre managed to associate the colour of Harry’s eyes to practically everything that was green.

Draco snorted when Pierre compared them to ‘a very sick frog’, earning another “Sit still”.

When Pierre announced that he only needed ten more minutes of his time, Harry began to circle around the small anteroom of the gallery, and perched on a large windowsill, letting the glass cast beautiful hues of light around him. Draco wanted this image into his own canvas, if only he had the talent to capture the spectacle that was Harry Potter.

Now Draco understood the gazing.

*

As soon as Pierre announced that he was finished, Draco leapt up from his seat, going over to where Harry was standing by the large rounded door that lead to the main part of the gallery. 

Pierre hobbled overs grumbling “Always moving, Malfoy. Let me shake your hand, must be off now.”

Draco quickly shook Pierre’s hand and followed after Harry into the gallery. 

Harry stood, in awe at the room. The gallery was like a long hall with two floors, the stairs to get to the second floor in the middle of the first. 

“Wow.” Was all that Harry could say, making his way to a row of at least 300 different portraits. Draco’s family history was all over these walls. Most of the people were smiling, if not sneering, in the paintings. They generally all looked like different people, but if you looked at their noses there was a familiar sharpness to it that had been passed down. There were all different sizes of paintings, the larger ones being the male Malfoy heir and the smaller ones underneath that his wife and children, who then carried on the chain. The portraits right at the start of the line dated back to centuries ago, judging by their clothing. All do them were painted to perfection, capturing everything that went on, onto the canvas.

Draco followed Harry as he made his way down the line, taking in every detail as though he was being forced to remember it. Draco wasn’t really sure why Harry was intrigued, until he remembered. Harry didn’t know his family. It then took Draco back to the time when Harry wanted to know everything about Celeste, saying he wanted to know because he hadn’t had one himself. Draco would have once used these as a way to brag, but now he understood.

“Your family goes back thousands of years.” Harry said, looking at a particularly scornful photo of what Draco read as his great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather. 

“Yeah, the rows go all the way down the gallery, all the way back up and ends halfway upstairs.” Draco said, gesturing to the iron railed balcony above them. 

“Can I take a look?” Harry replied, already stepping onto the marble stairs.

“If you must.” Draco answered with a sigh, knowing what was up there.

Harry made it to the furthest wall in the gallery, and came to a dead stop. Across the whole wall were portraits of Draco from one years old to seventeen. Pierre was putting up the next one tomorrow.

The child in the first one looked nothing like Draco, his cheeks too chubby and nose too small. As Harry progressed along the wall, the portraits changed. Draco had too. He lost his polite smile at the age of nine, and it turned into a sneer. His blonde hair grew by the age of three, his high cheekbones revealed at the age of seven and his pointed, long nose prominent by the age of eleven. Then Draco saw himself at fourteen. He had a grand smile on his face, and noticed the gleaming ring on his finger, the bulk of it a great difference to his slender hand. 

Harry noticed Draco staring. 

“You were fourteen then, right?” He asked, coming to stand next to Draco.

“Yeah, the year when-“

“You got engaged to Celeste.” Harry interrupted, looking at Draco.

“Betrothed.” Draco added. Engagements were supposed to be happy, and Draco was far from that. 

Harry’s eyes widened in something like realisation, but he didn’t say anything else, only moving along to the next painting. 

The blood was rushing so hard in Draco’s ears that he couldn’t hear anything at all, until the sound of a small chuckles broke through the silence. Harry was laughing at the portrait of Draco at sixteen, when Pierre made him sit for so long that he though his arse was going to fall off, it was obvious in his face that he was uncomfortable, but he refused to have another one done until the next year. He was so unbelievably stroppy at that age. 

“I’m kind of glad that I’ve never had a portrait done, it looks like hell.” Harry said, walking further along the wall.

Hearing about Harry’s royalty-free childhood just made Draco’s chest hurt, knowing he could have had that if everything else were different. Harry didn’t have a particularly ‘normal’ life, either, but Draco didn’t thing anyone had it as bad as him. 

Draco crashed into Harry’s side as h moved to catch up, and looked up to see Harry gazing at a photo of a woman. She had long, wavy black hair and eyes as blue as the sea. ‘As blue as a suffocating peacock’ Pierre would at. Underneath the painting, in curved gold script, said ‘Celeste Holloway’. 

“So this is Celeste.” Harry said.

“The one and only.” 

“She’s beautiful.” 

“Beautiful.” Draco echoed. It wasn’t that Celeste wasn’t beautiful, she was gorgeous, but he just couldn’t feel anything there anymore. The ring on his finger felt too heavy. 

“Why do you have a painting of her?” Harry asked.

“Father had it done a few months ago. He was getting impatient, and wanted to ‘celebrate early’” 

Harry just nodded and looked from the painting to Draco’s face. Draco knew that he was frowning but he didn’t have it in him to change it. 

Harry looked deep into Draco’s eyes, then swiftly turned to get down the stairs. Draco sighed in relief. Maybe Harry was catching on. Maybe he was brains and beauty. 

*

By the time they got out, it was too dark for them to head to ‘Lake James’. Or as Harry liked to call it, ‘James’.

“Sorry, Harry.” Draco said. 

Harry only shrugged. “Oh!” He said excitedly, “About that book from your library, I saw that you had...” Harry chatted on, pushing Draco from the centre point of his lower back. Harry couldn’t tell , but Draco leaned back into the touch, letting Harry guide him to Draco’s rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @/ferretboyandpotty


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry these chapters are so inconsistent!! School is starting to get busy,, apologies!  
> This chapter contains some minor graphic descriptions of gore, please be careful :) It’s nothing too bad I promise!  
> Enjoy! <3

The tournament was all that everyone could talk about. Lucius had made the announcement earlier that morning and now everyone was getting prepared for the next day. Everyone was excited. Everyone apart from Draco. 

“But Adelaide, surely you can just pretend to be me and sit in our box.” Draco said, following Adelaide as she watered the extensive gardens. The weather was getting colder as it edged on into late September, and Adelaide was sure she could keep the red roses alive through the chill. 

“I’m sure your father would catch me out instantly. And it’ll only be a day! One day and then you can go back to your sulking.” She teased, plucking off a leaf that turned brown. 

Draco just groaned and tried to think of ways to avoid the tournament. Perhaps he could accidentally choke on a piece of bread, or maybe Juliet accidentally flings him off the saddle, or perhaps when he’s...

“You can watch Sir Potter fight. That’s got to be some sort of entertainment!” She tries optimistically and it snaps Draco out of his thoughts. “You’ve never seen him fight before, have you? It’ll be amazing! Harry Potter fighting in your castle!”

“Are you still on that ‘Sir Potter’ stuff, Ada? He considers you a close friend.” 

“Oh come on, Draco. How can I not? And you really would hate it if you had to watch him fight? Would it be so horrible?” She said, teasing him.

Draco just rolled his eyes. Adelaide waited for his answer.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad...” He grumbled.

“There you go! Your crowns all polished, too. It would be a waste of my hard work if it wasn’t put to use.” She pouted.

“Oh shove off, Ada. You’re lucky you’re working while it’s going on, I’d rather do anything but sit in the box all day. My arse still hurts from Pierre!” 

“Oh get over it, Draco.” 

Draco just sneered and went to turn away, but Adelaide stopped him. 

“And also, Draco, you have a letter from Celeste. I don’t think she’s particularly happy about the silence on your side.” She said, a frown pulling at her lips.

Draco just nodded and walked off. Not a single thing could cheer up his foul mood. 

“Potter?” Draco said as he spotted Harry walking through the courtyard on his way back to his room. 

Harry visibly froze but then relaxed as he recognised the voice to be Draco. 

“Ah, Draco. I thought you were Lucius.” He let out on a sigh.

“Flattering.” Draco scowled. If he was his Father, he wouldn’t put his son through a marriage for the sake of carrying on the Malfoy bloodline. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to run from your Dad, he’s put me on a shift but I desperately need to pick up my sword for the tournament tomorrow.” Harry said, looking through the arches incase Lucius appeared. 

“I can go for you.” 

“Really? It’s honestly fine, you don’t have to.”

“No, I insist. I have nothing to do and I’m trying to avoid thinking about the tournament.” 

“Thank you.” Harry said, and hugged him. 

It happened all too quickly for Draco to hug him back, so he just stood there stiffly. 

Harry pulled back as fast as he went in. 

“Shit. Sorry. Urm... I need to go. Murderous King after me. Thank you for getting my sword! Tell Ron and Hermione that I miss them!” He sprinted off, leaving Draco frozen by himself. 

His whole body was tingling. It wasn’t like he’s never been hugged before, he had been given so many from Adelaide, but it wasn’t the same. No normal hug would make your heart race as much as Draco’s was right now. And it made no sense at all. He just knew he liked it. 

He dashed off to the village underneath his black cloak before he could completely lose his mind and forget everything that ever existed. Apart from Harry Potter. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget about Harry Potter. He’s certain he’ll forget about Celeste Holloway.

Draco arrived at the shop, glad he hadn’t been lost trying to get through the deepest part of the land. The streets were always alive, with thousands of carts selling things down the roads, dozens of shops containing all that one could need and forever bustling with people. It was hard to navigate where he was going. 

He knocked on the door to the first back room, hoping and praying that Ron would be the one to answer so he could avoid drawing attention from the rest of the red-heads. But things never really went the way Draco wants them too, so when the door opened after a second of waiting, an older women with striking ginger hair answered, and her mouth completely dropped. 

“Prince Draco! You were here the other day! You and Harry!” She said, and the other gingers started to peer over the work tables at the woman’s commotion. She seemed excited at his presence, although Draco wasn’t really favoured amongst most townsfolk. Maybe this woman was just genuinely nice.

“Molly, what is it?” A man around the same age walked up to the door, then turned to the woman -Molly- in shock. 

Before the busy shop could crowd around Draco quickly asked:

“Is Ron in? I’m here to pick up a sword.” 

“Oh yes! He’s in the office. Please come in, Prince.” Molly offered with her hands.

“Thank you.” 

And with that he entered. His hood was completely down at this point, and he was able to see everyone in the room, unlike last time when he was rushed past. Most of them seemed to have a polite smile on their face, although they didn’t seem as they were keen about having the son of an almost tyrant in their shop. 

Molly immediately went to the office door, poking her head in and shouting under her breath. Draco recalled that Molly hadn’t been there on his first visit, and probably heard about his sighting as she arrived back. 

After he courteously nodded his head to everyone, he was ushered into the families office. 

“Prince Draco!” Ron exclaimed as he looked up after hearing the door shut. 

“Good morning.” Draco replied, still unused to the mess of the space. There were completely melted taper candles dotted around everywhere, and the parchment looked as though it had been trampled on by horses. Draco supposed they didn’t have a lot of money, and remembered about their reaction for the bag of money he gave to them not long ago, paying for Harry’s sword. 

“Is Harry with you?” He asked, standing up from the desk. 

“Ah, no. He asked me to come pick up his sword.” 

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“I was hoping he’d come and pick it up.” Ron shrugged before his eyes widened in realisation. “Not that I don’t appreciate you coming here, of course. It’s just me and ‘Mione barely see him anymore. He wrote us a letter saying the King is keeping him in.”

“That’s what my Father tends to do with people he finds exciting. And he says he misses you both.” 

“He did?”

“Mhm”

“Ah, why did he choose to become a Knight? Why couldn’t he become a farmer or something.” Ron groaned, before remembering who he was in the presence of and quickly standing up straight. “And he has that tournament soon, too.”

“Are you seeing him then?” 

“No, we’re not allowed. Rules state that we’re too far from the castle to be accepted entrance, and he have hardly no status at all.”

“Ah, bollocks to that. I can get you in.”

“You can?” 

“Sure I can. I am the Prince.” He said, but it was hard to ignore the sadness in his voice. “As long as you keep to yourselves no one will say a word.”

“You’re not actually a prick.” Ron murmured, before again releasing what he’d just said. “I mean- In the past- I didn’t think you were- I just-“

“It’s alright, Ron. And I am trying my hardest not to be my Father.” 

Ron just nodded. 

“Could I have the sword?” Draco said, after Ron kept on staring. 

“Ah, absolutely. Bill made it no long ago, it’s one of our best ones yet.” Ron said and rushed out the room.

He returned quickly, holding a dazzling silver sword with ruby embellishments on the handle. It had swirly patterns on everything but the blade itself, and gleamed in the light that streamed through the window.

Draco was caught by how stunning it looked. Not even the sword smith at the castle could create something as nice. 

“It’s beautiful.” Draco murmured.

“Know a lot about swords?” Ron asked, pulling out a long, drawstring bag out of a crate.

“Nothing at all.” He replied, letting Ron put take the sword and put it in the bag. 

“Oh, I thought you would know about them, I guessed at the castle you’d-“ Ron started, but stopped after once again speaking whatever was on his mind. It was refreshing for Draco. “Never mind.” He said guiltily. 

“I’ve got to get back. Royal duties and everything.” He grimaced. Taking the bag and flipping the hood onto his head.

“About the tournament, how are Hermione and I getting in?” 

“I’ll meet you at the small gates on the right before it begins. Harry will be thrilled to see you.” He said, and left. 

*

Harry was in his library when he got back, reading a book. 

“I got your sword.” He said, and Harry snapped his head up. 

“Ah, great, thank you.” He stood up quickly and pulled the sword out from the bag. “Ah, wicked.” He said, admiring the sword.

“Ron says hi.” 

Harry lifts his head up, a small smile on his lips. He stares for a bit too long at Draco’s face, and his mouth changes into a cringe. 

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“What happened earlier?” 

“The hug.”

“It’s a hug, Harry. Don’t worry.” 

Harry was about to say something before a knock was heard at the door. Draco stepped back from Harry, realising that they had ended up really close together. 

“Hey, Draco. Your dinner-“ She said, then saw Harry. “Ah, Harry! Excited for tomorrow?”

“I’m actually pretty nervous.” Harry replied, fiddling with the sword. 

“Ah, don’t worry. Draco will be there if you need help, although I’m not sure how much he could do.” 

“Ada.” Draco groaned. 

“Anyway, Draco your dinner is ready. And Harry, I saw Knight Arthur looking for you earlier.” 

“Ah great, I’ll go. See you tomorrow.” Harry replied and left.

Adelaide just smiled at Draco with knowing, although there wasn’t really anything that could be known. Draco was acting normal. Yeah, definitely.

*

Draco woke up early the next morning. He dreaded leaving the bed, knowing what the day was to bring. From his diamond paned window he could see crowds already gathering outside the castle, trailing all the way down the towering stone stairs and through the iron gates. 

Draco looked at himself in the mirror. His tunic hangs loosely off of him, and his trousers are tied tightly with a leather strap. His normal clothes weren’t spectacular, but they were hardly anything like what a peasant would wear. The fabric was imported from luxury clothes shops, his tunic was woven delicately by one of the best seamstresses in the Kingdom, and his shoes had been specially made for him, embellished with gold ringlets. He wished he would be able to fill out his clothes better, like Harry did, but he was always naturally skinny and the cloth makers had thought he would be filled out from fighting. He never looked horrible, though, even if his clothes didn’t fit him. His face is one of beauty. He has a naturally gorgeous complexion. The clothes that Adelaide had picked out today were much nicer than what he’d normally wear, but that was because half of the kingdom was seeing him. 

After finishing breakfast, that was interrupted by countless questions thrown at Lucius, Draco runs to the small gates to the right of the castle and finds Ron and Hermione. 

“Ah, Prince! Thank you so much for this.” Hermione says, curtsying him in a flowing dress. 

“Have you seen Harry?” Ron asks, searching through the crowd that walks up the stairs that Draco had sneakily gone through. 

“No, not today. I think he’s getting ready for the tournament.” Draco says, guiding them to where the rest of the entering guests are filtering through. The twelve o’clock bell chimes, and Draco knows he should be sitting in his chair in the arena.

“I have to go.” He says, half-sprinting up the stairs. 

Draco gets to his chair just as the trumpet fanfare starts. He and his mother are sat in a special box, overlooking the battling area and all the spectators. There’s a sea of colour, and people who look positively wealthy. Draco can just make out the bright red head of hair and the bushy brown one next it, standing far behind the crowds on the lowest level.

The trumpets introduce his Father, who takes his place in the throne that sits in between his mother and himself. There’s a cacophony of claps, although they don’t come with bright faces. Most look displeased with the King, but a tournament wasn’t something you could miss out on, especially if you’ve been invited. It gets Draco pretty riled up that his Father only cares for the more wealthy people in the Kingdom, and there was so much room in the arena that could easily another one hundred. 

As a man wearing gold embroidered clothes announces the competitors, Draco can see Harry greet Ron and Hermione, who had dragged him aside from his warm-up to wish him luck. He gives them both a tight hug before his name is announced and he has to squeeze through the crowd to get to the entrance. Cheers roar through the crowds as Harry steps into the middle, Lucius being one of the loudest. Draco is clapping too, but it is hardly because it’s Harry Potter. It’s because Harry Potter looks mouth-wateringly good. Although Draco would never admit that out loud, it was the truth. Draco tried to hate that, but it was near impossible. Harry was attractive. But it didn’t mean anything. Draco can call other men attractive. Somehow he doesn’t seem to mind it at all.

It’s just the way Harry stands, with dark curly hair pulled back into a small ponytail at the back of his head, or the way the chain mail fits snug around his muscles, or how the dark green fabric of the tunic makes his emerald green eyes shine in a way that even Draco can see from where he’s sitting.

There’s a loud sound of clinking metal as the men in the centre of the arena filter out onto the benches. The first few matches are short but tense, awarding ooh’s and ahh’s from the crowd. Draco sits in their spectator box, idly picking at the leather strapped around his waist. He takes notice of his ring. He hasn’t taken off for ages, not even when sleeping. But it wasn’t because he was just so infatuated with Celeste that he never wanted to part with it, it was because if he takes it off, he doesn’t think he’ll care to remember to put it back on. Even though the signet ring is bulky and quite simply a statement piece, it feels like hardly anything, either it feels like it’s not there at all or that Draco’s finger has become numb to the warmth it used to hold. It wasn’t a matter of just not wearing it, though. Lucius would notice instantly. Draco wraps his other hand around the ring to conceal it, and puts his attention back onto the tournament. From the corner of his eye, he can see his Mother smiling in his direction. Draco feels sick.

A few more games play until Harry’s name is announced, and he whole crowd seems to shuffle onto the edge of their seats. Harry walks into the arena, new sword and bulky shield in tow. Harry’s competitor is announced, and Draco can feel his face grow pale. They’ve put Harry with a brute, who is at least three times Harry’s size and who’s face is turning red with anger. Draco remembers when Harry said that people would still be mad and try to hurt him, and he can’t help but think this is a bad idea. The other man almost looks like a bull, his dark brown hair sticking in clumps over his sweaty face. It was the last match of the tournament, so it was going to have to be the greatest. There is no doubt that someone had purposefully chosen this line-up so that Harry would be in a position of vulnerability. But Draco couldn’t just stop the match because he was concerned for Harry’s safety. He’s sure the Kingdom would dislike him more if he did that. But Lucius is intently watching him, and if Draco even tried to attempt getting out of the box and down to the arena, Lucius would just grab him by the back of his collar and plant him firmly in place. 

But Harry was great at fighting and never seemed to give up, so Draco is left to pray to whoever is listening that the man Harry is up against just really wants to win.

The match started with a foul straight away, with the hulk of a man trying to pry Harry’s shield off him. It wasn’t going to work, and Harry just stood there with the most confused expression on his face. It looked kind of good on him, but Draco told himself that that wasn’t the point.

After a couple of minutes of short jabs and looping movements, Draco is able to work out that the man isn’t just aiming anywhere in hopes that it will knock Harry to his feet, but he is actually going directly for Harry’s right hip. The one that is damaged. No one else seems to notice, even Lucius, who is watching jovially and clapping at each strike of a sword.

They go backwards and forwards, Harry lifting his sword and slashing it sideways and the other man defending himself by holding his sword outwards. 

The rest happens all too quickly. The other fighter manages to edge his way closer to Harry, and one second they are both fighting with all their might and the next, Harry is on the floor, his sword just out of reach. Draco, and the rest of the crowd it seems, stand up to try and see what had happened, but everyone is moving at the same time, applauding the man who won and hauling Harry up to his feet. Lucius is not happy with Harry, and Harry... well he looks pale. Almost gaunt-like. His eyes are scrunched up and he’s limping, but before Draco can go see what’s up, Harry is lost in the crowd. 

Everyone is starting to leave, bowing to where Lucius stands and clapping the winning man on the shoulder. Draco dashes past them, on a hunt for familiar back curls. He can’t find them, but he does find a head of striking ginger hair.

“Ron!” Draco calls, grabbing the attention of Ron and then seconds after, Hermione.

“Hey! Great match, wasn’t it? Shame Harry lost but-“

“Have you seen him?” Draco interrupts.

“No, we were meant to meet after but he just disappeared. I was going to tell him how great the sword looked, and also how great he was but mainly the sword.” Ron laughs, and Hermione just rolls her eyes. 

“Is he okay?” She asks, noticing that Draco seems out of it and frantic.

“I don’t know, he didn’t look great, but when-“ Draco begins, but is quickly stopped by a demanding voice:

“Draco!” Lucius shouts. It causes the remaining few left in the castle grounds to look in their direction, and Lucius has to wordlessly reprimand him, using his stern eyes to convey a message of ‘Get here now, and stop talking to those peasants.’

Draco apologises from under his breath and follows his Father and another back to the castle. Draco is intent on searching for Harry, but as he makes his way up to his room and finds a steaming goblet of something warm next to his bed, he can’t help but lay down and have a rest. His eyes begin to close soon after.

*

Draco wakes up with a jolt, hearing a weak knock on the door. He looks out of the window, and at the fading light of the mid-autumn sky. He must have slept for hours.

“Harry?” Draco whispers, spotting a fatigued Harry at his door. His hand is clenching over his right hip and he’s wincing in pain.

“Harry, what is it?” Draco says faintly as he stands up to move towards the door. Harry stays upright for a split second before falling into Draco’s chest.

Draco manoeuvres a heavy Harry onto his large bed and pushed him lightly so that he can lie on his back.

“What happened?” Draco said, trying to moves Harry’s hand away from his body.

“My hip.” He inhaled sharply. “Bloody bastard slashed it with his sword, it broke through my chainmail and everything. It started to seize up but I though it would be fine.” He breathed out.

“Thought it’d be fine? You really think-“ He starts, raising his voice but stopping, the need to tend to Harry’s injuries overcoming him. 

“Take your trousers off.” Draco sighs, but was still alarmed at Harry’s weakened state.

“What?” Harry says, his eyes snapping open. 

“Do you want me to help or not?” He tuts, not up to playing any game until he knows Harry is fine. 

“Fine.” Harry scowls, but a small smile appears on his lips. His face was beggining to grow pinker, too.

“You stay here, I’m going to get some supplies.” Draco stands up quickly, making his way to his bathroom. 

When he turns back into the room, Harry is now trouser-less. He glances down at the swollen hip that is covered in gashes. Draco loses his ability to breathe, partly because of the sight of Harry’s wounds but also because all that Harry had on now was a white tunic and a pair of pants. 

“Right,” He said, suppressing a shiver. “This will sting.”

Draco opens a drawstring bag and pulls out bandages, cloths and a selection of different salves. He sucks in his breath as he moves closer to Harry. His hip was still slightly covered by his tunic and so he delicately tries to pull it up, avoiding any physical contact.

Although the match was a good 5 hours ago, the wounds were still bleeding and exposed. Draco grabs a cloth and begins to wipe away the blood, making Harry wince and grumble.

“Stop moving, or it’ll hurt more.” Draco says sternly. Harry Potter was such a diva.

Harry swears angrily and opens his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the searing pain in his hip.

“Right, I need to put some salve on. It’s going to hurt. But you can suck it up, seeing as you’re a Knight.” Draco shrugs, smirking.

“Why are you smiling? I’m in pain.” Harry sighs dramatically, like a damsel in distress.

“Well, if you hadn’t just gone and seen the castle nursemaid then we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” Draco mumbled back.

“We?” Harry smiled.

Draco shoots him a deathly glare. “Do you want to bleed to death?”

“I guess no, not really. How do you know how to do this anyway?” Harry says intriguingly, flicking his eyes down to where Draco is sat at the edge of the bed.

“Adelaide taught me. She’s basically taught me everything.” Draco smiles lightly.

“Oh.” Harry says faintly.

“What’s the ‘Oh’ for?” He says, slightly defensively. 

“Well it just seems like Adelaide has payed you more attention than your own parents have.” He shrugs, but a sad tone lines his voice.

Draco’s sheltered walls began to build up around him, but he takes a deep breath and makes himself speak. For his own sake. And Harry’s.

“Pretty much. You already knew that though.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry shruggs, but immediately regretted it as the searing pain returned to his hip.

“Stop moving!” Draco exclaims and twists open the lid of a jar of salve. He scoops two fingers into the jar and breaths in as the cool cream surrounds his fingers. He puts the jar onto his bedside table and turns back towards Harry’s body. He scrunches up his face as his fingers draw closer to Harry’s hip. 

“I can do it myself, you know.” Harry sighs and began to sit up. It causes Draco to break his attention away from the hip, and he stopsHarry from getting up by placing a firm hand on his bicep. Draco’s heart began to beat at a rapid pace as he felt strong muscle underneath his fingers.

“No, no.” Draco inhales,!trying to catch his breath. “I’ll do it, you sit back. It’ll only hurt worse if you start moving.” 

And with that he places his fingers onto Harry’s hip, and Harry sucks in a pained breath. Draco ran his fingers lightly around the red cut, smoothing the salve into Harry’s tanned skin. 

“It- It stings.” Harry sharply said through breaths.

“It’s stinging because it’s working. You big baby.” Draco mutters, focused on getting the salve applied neatly to Harry’s body. It seems to lessen the swelling, although Harry appears to still be in pain. 

“There’s not much else I can do now. You’ll have to wait for them to heal on their own.” He says, helping Harry shuffle slowly up the bed. Harry manages to stand up, and he clutches tightly on Draco’s arms.

“What am I meant to tell your Father?” He asks, worried. Draco isn’t really sure, because he knows his Father will be fuming at losing a Knight. 

“Just tell him your hips seizing up and pray that he will let you off.” Draco shrugs, wishing he could be more help.

“Thank you.” Harry says, hand resting on Draco’s elbow. Draco almost wants to lean into Harry and hug him, but he decides against it, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that electric feeling comes back.

“Don’t worry about it. Have a nap and I’ll get Adelaide to make you tea.” Draco replies, opening his door for Harry and watching as he walks down the corridor. 

Draco slumps into his bed, allowing his eyes to drift closed again, and only waking up for dinner. Whatever Draco is feeling, he’s either going to have to sort it out or ignore it all together. But it is Harry Potter, and ignoring him has proved to not be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @/ferretboyandpotty <3


End file.
